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THE SALE PROCEEDED AMID MERRY BANTER 


CAPTAIN PETE OF 
PUGET SOUND 


BY 

JAMES COOPER WHEELER 



NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty-third Street 



Copyright, 1909 

By E. P. Dutton & Company 


Clfc*. 2474 i 1 
' SEP[10 («09 




CONTENTS 


^3 


CHAPTER PAGE 

One 

Two 

Three. . 21 

Four 33 

Five 43 

Six 52 

Seven 62 

Eight 73 

Nine 85 

Ten 96 

Eleven 108 

Twelve 12 1 

Thirteen * . . . . 131 

Fourteen * 144 

Fifteen 156 

Sixteen 167 

Seventeen 178 

Eighteen 190 

Nineteen 202 

Twenty 215 

Twenty-one 226 

Twenty-two 239 

Twenty-three 251 

Twenty-four 263 





ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Sale Proceeded Amid Merry Banter . . Frontispiece 5 - 
Captain Pete Stood up with the Spear in His Hands . . 64 


Up Went Two Pair of Hands 117 

Didn’t You Ever Hear Tell of Captain Pete Graignac, Bert? 210 
Dope Began to Circle Around the Prisoners 265 



I 



Captain Pete of Puget Sound 


CHAPTER ONE 



APT AIN PETE was well known through the 


San Juan archipelago in 18 — . He was a 
sturdy pony-built boy of fourteen years, whose 
quick, dark eyes, sallow skin, and mercurial tem- 
perament indicated his mixed ancestry. His 
father, a French sailor named Edward Graignic, 
had bought a piece of land on one of these beautiful 
islands years before, and now made a living by 
fishing. Like many of the San Juan settlers, 
Graignic had married an Indian woman, or 
Klootchman, as the Siwash females are called on 
Puget Sound, and reared a brood of dusky young 
half-breeds which taxed the resources of his shack 
on Waldron island, and made him — for he was con- 
scientious according to his. lights — more zealous 
than ever to wrest a competence from his surround- 
ings, that he might give these fledgelings a fair 
start in the world. 

Captain Pete who was the eldest child, and his 
father’s mainstay, had inherited the marvelous 
patience, and dogged perseverance of his mother’s 


2 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

race, combined with the brightness and energy of 
his father's, so that he grew up a boy of rare and 
engaging personality though he was a veritable 
young barbarian, who had never visited a large 
town, or seen the most common appliances of 
higher civilization. There were no schools near, 
but his father taught him to read and write, and 
he could handle the big sail boat which was used 
in fishing — even in a storm — as well as Graignic 
himself. He could bait the hooks, and put out the 
cod and halibut lines, and do a man's work in the 
various avocations that go to make up the details 
of a life on the frontier, where it must be remem- 
bered, most of the conveniences as well as the lux- 
uries of existence are unknown; where the barest 
necessaries must be wrested from the clutch of Na- 
ture, and the raw material surrounding the set- 
tlers be converted into food, and raiment, and 
shelter. 

In the summer season Captain Pete helped his 
father net herring, and taking a bushel or two of 
the little fish off to the large decked fishing sloop, 
named the Tyee (Indian for chief) he would cut 
them into inch-long pieces for bait, and when this 
was done overhaul the great set-line, hundreds of 
feet in length, and strung with hooks on short bits 
of line every three feet, baiting them with a pala- 
table morsel of herring to allure the victim. When 
the line was carefully coiled in a huge heap in the 
middle of the deck with the floats attached, Captain 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 3 

Pete and his father would hoist the great sail of 
the Tyee, and flit silently away over the green 
waters, between the fresh and smiling islands that 
dotted them like flowers, to a favorite fishing 
ground both knew full well, and were reticent 
about. There they would put out the line, and in 
a few hours return with a boat almost laden with 
great halibut, or long, lean, vicious-looking black 
cod, and chunky, broad-shouldered, goggle-eyed 
red cod. These were not always all; sometimes a 
horrible devilfish, or an unwieldy, diabolical skate 
would become entangled on the hooks, or a young 
shark, or a fierce dogfish would be among the 
capture. I suspect that Ed Graignic, who had 
real ability in concerns pertaining to cookery, and 
was encouraged by his squaw wife’s adaptability 
in the matter of eating, allowed none of these 
fishes to go to waste; and no doubt devilfish soup, 
and skate entrees, and fried or broiled shark steak 
were not infrequent dishes on the Graignic bill of 
fare. 

After the catch, Captain Pete would go to sell 
the fish, of course in the Tyee, for in the San 
Juan archipelago a fish cart would be badly handi- 
capped. All the little towns that had grown up in 
that happy county were on different islands, and 
necessarily situated where they could have steam- 
boat communications with the mainland. 

Sometimes the Captain would be accompanied by 
his father, but generally not, for he was perfectly 


4 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

competent to go alone. In the latter case, he 
would leave Waldron island, which was the north- 
ernmost one of the county, for these islands form 
a county, and come down to East Sound on Orcas 
island, in which delightful summer village he found 
many customers. From here Captain Pete’s route 
bore away to Friday Harbor, the quaint little town 
on San Juan island which is the county seat. 
When he moored his boat at the dock, and started 
up Spring street, which takes its name from a large 
spring between Martin Rethlefsen’s house on one 
side, and the Islander newspaper office on the 
other, he stopped at Joe Sweeney’s store. Joe, the 
big, jolly Irishman, who made a fortune trading 
with the Indians in the early days, and rumor says, 
has more than one smuggled cargo of opium on 
his conscience, is the magnate of the county town, 
and one of the Captain’s best customers. He came 
out of his store as he saw the little fishmonger, his 
burly shoulders scraping the door posts. 

"Halloo! Captain,” he called, his bright gray 
eyes a-twinkle with fun, "I smelt your fish before 
you got on the wharf! They’re pretty strong to- 
day ! Why don’t you let ’em pack you, instead of 
you packing them?” 

Captain Pete’s dark eyes lit up with a flash that 
gleamed across his swarthy face like a sudden ray 
of sunlight on a forest pool. He knew the genial 
Irishman’s mode of dealing, and never expected 
to sell him without plenty of chaff, although it by 


5 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

no means always went only one way, for the 
frontier boy-captain had plenty of wit and humor 
sewed up in his own rugged little head. 

“You were in the store, and must have got a 
whiff of some of your own stale stock, sir/' he 
replied. 

The bystanders smiled, and the sale proceeded 
amid merry banter until the two fish were disposed 
of, and Captain Pete, jingling some coin in his 
brown hand, returned to the Tyee for more of his 
wares. 

It happened that Tom Fisher was an interested 
spectator of the interview between Captain Pete and 
Joe Sweeney. His father was Major Fisher, who 
had come from Cheyenne, Wyoming, to Port 
Townsend not long before, where he had received 
an appointment in the customs service. He was 
a shrewd man who had made a good record in the 
civil war, and studying law afterward, he had set- 
tled in the growing prairie city of Cheyenne, and 
become a political power there. His active ener- 
gies, and capacity as an organizer had been 
promptly recognized by his party, and led to this 
mission in the new state of Washington, where his 
duties consisted apparently as much in working for 
the interests of the administration, as in gathering 
evidence against, and hunting down the numerous 
bands of smugglers which haunted Puget Sound in 
those days, and plied among the islands of the San 
Juan archipelago, which lies almost in the mouth 


6 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 


of that magnificent inland sea. In fact Victoria, 
the largest city in British Columbia on Vancouver 
island, is not twenty miles from the western shore 
of San Juan island, and about here the archipelago 
is such an intricate maze, that only those who have 
made a close study of the passages can find their 
way in daylight, while in the darkness, even smug- 
glers and islanders — terms frequently synonymous 
— are sometimes at a loss. 

To come back to Tom Fisher: He was a tall, slim, 
but active and well set-up youth of sixteen years 
of age. His high brow, and; clear cut aquiline 
features, indicated that he was above average, 
and in fact Tom was an unusually intelligent and 
wide-awake boy, who though so young, had already 
developed many traits that contributed to his 
father’s success in life, and in particular, he was a 
keen judge of character, and had learned many les- 
sons that boys bred among different associations 
have no conception of at his age. His father had 
brought him to Friday Harbor to spend his vaca- 
tion. 

When Pete came back carrying two more fish 
by the gills, Tom strolled in the aimless way pecul- 
iar to Friday Harbor people — and others who 
dwell in small villages — with him up Spring street. 

“That’s a pretty nice boat of yours, Captain 
Pete,” he remarked. 

“You bet you!” answered the captain, “she’s 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 7 

named the Tyee, and she is the tyee of anything 
among the islands.” 

Tom did not quite comprehend this, but he saw 
that the answer referred to some significance in 
the name, so he promptly asked : 

“What does Tyee mean, anyhow?” 

Captain Pete was somewhat surprised that such 
a knowing looking chap should not understand so 
common a word, but he affably replied: 

“Why, chief, you know! Tyee is Injun for 
chief.” 

The enlightened Tom laughed, and said: 

“I guess you got the boat's name wrong, for 
chief is male, and the boat is a female; at least you 
just called it 'she.' ” 

Pete saw the point like a flash, and rejoined: 

“ Well, she's a chief's daughter, anyhow, and the 
best of all her tribe. She can sail faster, and lie 
closer than anything that ever came to these parts.” 

“I'd mighty well like to have a sail on her, for 
she looks like a daisy,” remarked Tom, his face full 
of animation. 

Now Pete was mightily taken with Tom, for he 
liked the “cut of his jib,” and this last observation 
was the very opening he wanted. 

“See here !” he exclaimed, “why don’t you come 
along with me the rest of the trip, and to-night you 
can stop at our shack, and if you'd visit us two or 
three days I know father'd be proud to have you. 


8 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

When you get tired, I’ll run you back to Friday 
Harbor in no time on the Tyee.” 

To say that Tom was pleased with this hearty in- 
vitation from the boy captain would not do half 
justice to his feelings in the matter. He was in- 
terested in the fisher lad's personality, and de- 
lighted with his boat; but the prospect of going on 
such a trip as was proposed, and seeing the home 
of a Puget Sound fisherman, filled him with joy. 

“Come up to the hotel, Captain Pete,” said he, 
“and we'll see my father, and ask him if I can 
go. If he says all right, there's nothing I should 
like better.” 

The captain went down for some black cod, hav- 
ing a standing order to supply fish to Pat Welsh, 
the hotel keeper, and they hurried to the hotel. 

Major Fisher and his wife were on the piazza as 
the two boys appeared on the rise before the en- 
trance to the building. 

“Tom seems to have picked up a new acquaint- 
ance,” observed the revenue officer with an amused 
smile. 

Mrs. Fisher, whose first experience it was on 
the frontier, and whose associations had hitherto 
been among the more cultivated classes of metro- 
politan life, viewed Captain Pete's stumpy figure, 
dirty hands, and dangling fish with humorous hor- 
ror, and ejaculated: 

“Merciful Heavens! What a frightfully dirty 
and shabby boy !” 


9 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

But Tom gave a joyous shout, and grasping Pete 
by the arm, hurried him, utterly unconscious of 
anything incongruous in his appearance, to the im- 
mediate presence of the dainty lady and her hus- 
band. She drew her skirt somewhat closer, away 
from the contamination of Pete’s fishy boots, but 
when she saw the boy captain’s bright, steadfast, 
sunburnt face, she acknowledged his salutation 
with a smile that won the lad’s heart. He realized 
that he had never been in so sweet and gracious a 
presence before, and thought of his own dusky and 
stolid mother with a vague and confused sense of 
humiliation that he could not quite understand, or 
make seem right. 

When Tom had explained about Pete’s invita- 
tion, and his eagerness to accept it, his father 
turned to the captain and asked: 

“Are you sure your father and mother would 
enjoy Tom’s visit as much as you would yourself, 
Captain Pete ?” 

It was one of Pete’s peculiarities that he looked 
everybody square in the eye, and as the major 
watched his face he thought he had never seen a 
more sincere and indomitable expression than that 
of this Puget Sound fisher boy. 

“Yes, sir,” answered Pete, “father is always glad 
to have company, and I am sure he will make any 
friend of mine welcome.” 

“Will it be safe to let those two youngsters go 
off together on that horrid boat?” queried Tom’s 


io Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

mother, who certainly did not entertain the same 
feelings of admiration toward the Tyee that her son 
did. 

“Why,” answered the major, “I have heard of 
this boy captain before, my dear, and he is said to 
be a very skillful sailor, as well as steady and in- 
dustrious. I think the trip will do Tom good, and 
the two boys will do each other no harm. So away 
with you, Tom, and get your fishing rod and gun, 
and look out that Captain Pete don’t beat you in 
using them.” 

As the boys scampered away to Tom’s room, 
Major Fisher remarked: 

“Lydia, that is a great team. I have seldom 
seen two boys more fitted to make their way in the 
world, and although Tom is much the best looking, 
I am not at all sure he will make the better man. 
The little captain is heart of oak, and has the stuff 
in him to overcome obstacles. Poor lad, he has 
many in his path,” he added musingly, as he thought 
of the narrowness of the boy’s life, and the ma- 
terial difficulties to be encountered before the half- 
breed youth could achieve Success. 


CHAPTER TWO 



HERE was a brisk and steady breeze as Captain 


* Pete hauled in the sheet, and took the tiller of 
the Tyee, and she tossed her head gaily into the 
short crisp waves as Tom shook his handkerchief 
to the receding figures of his father and mother 
on the wharf. 

As Pete had disposed of his fish in Friday Har- 
bor there was no need of his going on to Argyle, 
and Roche Harbor. So he bore away towards 
Waldron island with a flowing sheet, and a free 
wind on the Tyee’s quarter. 

As soon as the captain had made everything 
snug the two boys took their places in the stern 
sheets — Pete with the tiller in his hand — and began 
to chatter. It was a case of mutual liking, and 
the fact that they were dissimilar in many of their 
characteristics only tended, perhaps, to intensify 
the feeling into impulsive and cordial friendship. 

Pete, tho’ reticent in habit of mind, and inclined 
to be undemonstrative of manner, was in his se- 
cret consciousness, very deeply impressed with the 
gallant bearing of the fair-haired Tom, whose de- 
meanor was so engaging, and who with his father 
and delicate lady mother, seemed to belong to 
another and totally different world from the hard- 


ii 


12 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

working and struggling one in which he had been 
reared. He felt yearnings in his own rugged lit- 
tle heart to be more like Tom, that would have 
been envy, had the boy been less loyal to his own 
surroundings. He tried to smother a certain 
sense of inferiority that he could not help feeling, 
and sturdily thought that after all, perhaps this 
young prince's circumstances were not so much 
better than his own. 

On his part, Tom did not for a moment suspect 
the turn his companion's thoughts were taking. 
On the contrary, he was feeling that Captain Pete 
was a little hero to be able at his age to make part 
of the family living, and that he himself would 
mightily like to be so capable, and steady, and 
industrious as his young half-breed friend. 

But if these were at first the secret thoughts of 
the two boys, their conversation was far from 
showing any trace of them. They talked of the 
boat, the weather, fishing, until at last they set- 
tled to the congenial topic of smuggling, and while 
they are so engaged, I must tell the reader more 
of this island county of Puget Sound through 
which the Tyee was bearing the two boy friends. 

It is a beautiful region, and probably unique ; at 
least I know of no similar stretch of territory that 
constitutes a county. There are several hundreds 
of islands in it, some eighteen or twenty miles from 
end to end, like San Juan, Orcas, and Lopez, down 
to tiny dots on the water, hardly large enougfrto 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 13 

swing a cat in. They are all, however, fertile in 
soil, luxuriant in vegetation, and wrapped in a 
romantic atmosphere that makes them charming 
alike to the visitor, and the dweller within their 
limits. The very thought of an island suggests 
Romance. Paul and Virginia lived and loved on 
one. Robinson Crusoe would not have been so 
fascinating — as Defoe well knew — had he been cast 
away on the Mainland. The Pirates, with an in- 
stinctive sense of fitness, chose them to bury their 
treasure in; and the sweetest and most lovable of 
story-tellers, Robert Louis Stevenson, had to stifle 
the yearnings of an unsatisfied imagination until 
he broke away from the fetters and restraints of 
continental life, and created his Island Home. 

Judge then the spell that hung over these story- 
haunted isles that summer day as the Tyee bore 
Captain Pete and Tom Fisher past their shores, and 
through the cramped and winding channels which 
divided them. Here was one, the Isle of Flowers, 
a dot of glowing hue an acre in extent, girdled with 
a white beach, and stained with color from the 
myriads of wild flowers springing up, and almost 
subduing the greenness of the verdure amid which 
they grew. Now another is passed ; a mere clump 
of giant fir trees rearing lofty heads two hundred 
feet toward the sun. In the center of this islet is a 
tumble-down log house, in a small clearing con- 
cealed from the water front. Tradition says that 
not many years ago a hermit Englishman had his 


14 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 


abode here away from the haunts of men, until ac- 
cident revealed to him that Death had left him the 
head of his family, when he sadly and lingeringly 
left his Home in the Wilderness, and returned to 
England to take up the burdens that his birth im- 
posed upon him. 

Again they glide past an almost hidden cove, 
which the captain points out to Tom as a favorite 
haunt of the smugglers. This interests Tom 
greatly; and amid the sunshine, and gliding safely 
over the rippling waters, his fancy wandered away ; 
he saw the trim, swift sloop, or stealthy canoe, 
darting thro’ these tortuous passages amid the 
darkness and swirl of the midnight storm. Crafty 
tho’ bold, alert as well as reckless, the crew detect 
the presence of the revenue patrol long before their 
own low-lying craft is sighted, and slink furtively 
into some hidden bay like this. Here they hastily 
cache or hide the opium in a convenient nook, and 
coming out again, boldly face the officers of the law 
with a counterfeit presentment of being hardy and 
honest fishermen, or ranchers going from one 
island to another. Then the danger past, they 
unearth the pernicious drug, and continue their 
voyage to the Mainland, where some moon-faced, 
pig-tailed Celestial receives the contraband cargo, 
and stores it away in some hiding place ingeniously 
constructed, and so inaccessible that only he who 
hid could find. 

While talking of such affairs as have been 


i5 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

described above, the Tyee came to a narrow inlet 
between two of the islands, and with the remark that 
“that pass would shorten their journey ,, Pete hauled 
in his sheet, and bore up to it. 

It was very narrow — not over two hundred feet 
wide — and the high banks of the adjacent islands, 
crowned with lofty firs, shut out the western sun, 
and laid the swift and swirling waters black in 
shadow. 

The somber impressiveness of the scene kept both 
boys silent, and when about the middle of the pas- 
sage, the captain suddenly nudged Tom with his 
foot in a warning manner — in spite of his inno- 
cence and good nerves — he nearly jumped out of 
his skin. 

What he saw when he turned his eyes in the di- 
rection Pete was gazing, did not tend to still the 
beating of his heart. There, on a little sand-spit, 
edging a tiny cove, was a flat-bottomed schooner, 
long, and narrow, partly in the water, and partly 
out, having apparently been left thus by the receding 
tide. A rough looking man was sitting motionless 
on the bitts at the bow with a rifle across his knees. 
He stared silently at the boys as the Tyee drifted 
rapidly past, and then they noticed a smoke in 
among the trees, and saw that several other men 
were crouching by a camp fire in perfect stillness. 

Tom's face grew pale as Pete whispered : 

“Smugglers, by Gum! Keep quiet, and may be 
they won't stop us.” 


1 6 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“All right,” he breathed softly. “Thunder ! 
Don’t I wish my father was here!” 

Pete nudged him softly again as an admonition 
to silence, and the Tyee slid noiselessly on. A few 
minutes more, and they came out into the open 
Sound again, and both drew a long breath. 

“Jewhillikens!” exclaimed Tom, “I wonder what 
they were up to ?” 

“I think they were running a cargo of coolies,” 
answered Pete, “I am sure I saw one in the bush.” 

Tom knew that since the law restricting Chinese 
Immigration had been passed, desperate men in the 
Northwest had made a business of “running” Chi- 
namen across the United States’ border in defiance 
of the statute, and customs authorities, and that the 
traffic was very profitable to the outlaws engaged 
in it. In fact, they received as much as $50 or $75 
a head for smuggling the pig-tailed rascals into a 
colony of their own countrymen in Port Townsend, 
or Seattle, where their likeness to one another made 
it impossible for even the keen-eyed officers of the 
law to distinguish a new arrival from an old resi- 
dent. 

As soon as the boys had calmed a little from their 
excitement, Tom began to think. 

“Pete !” he burst out abruptly, “how long would 
it take us to get back to Friday Harbor without go- 
ing through that Pass again?” 

The captain’s black eyes stuck out at the sudden- 
ness of the question, and then as he realized its 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 17 

drift, they flashed with quick fire. He looked to 
windward, and said slowly : 

“The wind has freshened, and hauled ahead some, 
so we would have it almost abeam, and the tide’s be- 
ginning to make. In half an hour it will be strong 
in our favor. The Tyee can do it in an hour and a 
quarter, if I steer small.” 

“Put her about!” commanded Tom, in great ex- 
citement, “my father will pay you more money for 
this than you would make selling a dozen loads of 
fish, Captain Pete!” 

“Hurrah ! Ready about !” shouted Pete, as he put 
his helm down, and in a moment the fleet sloop was 
flying in the opposite direction. 

Major Fisher and his wife were on Sweeney’s 
wharf watching the sun sink slowly and majestically 
to its rest as the Tyee dashed up. In an instant 
Tom appeared with the suddenness of a Jack-in-a- 
box before his father, and had already begun his 
story in an excited tone, when the major, whose 
quick mind and knowledge of the situation among 
these islands made him realize that the boy was in 
possession of some important news, put his hand on 
Tom’s shoulder, and glancing at some village loiter- 
ers on the dock, said quietly : 

“Let us go up to the hotel. And you had better 
ask Captain Pete to come along.” 

Tom comprehended in a twinkle and pulled him- 
self together. Then calling Pete in a casual way 


1 8 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

to come with him, they went to the hotel, while the 
major, giving his arm to Mrs. Fisher, leisurely fol- 
lowed. 

The major took his wife into the hotel parlor, and 
went up to his bedroom with the two lads. 

“Now then, boys,” he said, “tell me the whole 
story.” 

Tom narrated circumstantially how they had 
come upon the smugglers' boat, and his father, who 
was serious and keenly interested, turned to Cap- 
tain Pete, and asked: 

“Have you ever seen the boat before, Captain 
Pete?” 

“No, sir,” answered he, “but I think she was the 
Nonesuch, and I am almost sure that was Bill Kel- 
ley who had the gun in the bow.” 

“How do you know? Have you ever seen Bill 
Kelley?” 

“Yes, sir. Once Dad pointed him out to me at 
Guemes island when we were hunting. But he was 
dressed differently, and I couldn't swear to him 
sure.” 

The major reflected. He knew that Kelley was 
a bold smuggler who lived on one of the small is- 
lands near the mainland of Skagit country, at the 
eastern end of the San Juan archipelago, and that 
he was constantly making runs of opium and China- 
men through the islands on his swift schooner the 
Nonesuch. This craft had been specially built for 
the business, and answered to the description Pete 


i9 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

had given of the one they had seen, for it was 45 
feet over all, and of only 9 feet beam, with a low 
cabin, and painted lead color so that it could not be 
readily seen at a distance. It had a center-board, 
and flat bottom too, and could be easily run up 
on a sandy beach without injury, which was a great 
convenience in her business. 

On the whole, it seemed to the major highly 
probable Captain Pete was right, and the boat that 
he had seen was the Nonesuch, with Bill Kelley 
in command. If so, he concluded there was no 
reason for them lying hidden away as described by 
the boys, unless they were engaged in some trans- 
action unsanctioned by the law. 

“What is the name of this inlet ?” he asked Pete, 
“and where is it ?” 

“We call it Dog-fish Pass, and it is between two 
small islands that bear due west from the southern- 
most point of Orcas. It isn’t often that anyone 
goes thro’ it, sir, and I wouldn’t myself except when 
the tide is pretty near flood, because there are two 
boulders in the stream as big as a house that stick 
clear out of water when the ebb is running.” 

This information decided the major, and he said: 

“You two boys remain here until I return, which 
will be very shortly.” 

He went down at once to Doctor Sloggett’s drug 
store, and there he found Lieutenant Higgins, who 
had been stationed by the custom’s authorities at 
Friday Harbor in command of the little revenue 


20 


.Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

launch ignominiously christened the “Black Pup” 
by the islanders, partly because she was housed in 
with tarpaulin, and partly from a general belief — 
pretty well justified by fact — in her inefficiency. 
With this tiny craft, whose utmost speed was six 
miles an hour, the lieutenant spent his time cruising 
about the archipelago, entirely successful in over- 
hauling pleasure parties, and others who did not 
need it, and laughed at openly by the smugglers, 
who were invariably warned by the noisy puffing 
of the “Pup” in plenty of time to hide or get away. 

Lieutenant Higgins, however, was a shrewd and 
alert officer, and although he was so badly handi- 
capped in his efforts by his miserable boat, he had 
on several occasions made important captures, and 
was both feared and respected by the lawless crew 
with whom he had to contend. 

When Major Fisher quietly called him one side, 
and told him the information the boys had brought, 
he was ready for action at once. The result of the 
consultation between the two was that the lieuten- 
ant went to where the Black Pup was lying, and 
summoned the three sailors detailed to assist him 
at this station. He had them quietly arm them- 
selves, and led them over to Sweeney’s wharf. It 
was now dark, and in a moment Major Fisher and 
the two boys came from the hotel, and the whole 
party embarked in the Tyee, and slipped away from 
the dock unnoticed. 


CHAPTER THREE 


“MOW boys/’ said Major Fisher when they 

* ^ were fairly under way, “we are going to try 
and capture those fellows you saw in Dog-fish Pass 
this afternoon. And Captain Pete, I now hire your 
boat for the United States government, and will 
pay you at the rate of $10 an hour for her” — here 
Pete hauled out his silver bull's-eye to make sure 
of the time they had started — “and I will pay you 
from the moment you turned back to let me know 
you had seen Kelley. We take you along with us 
because it is your boat, and after we make the cap- 
ture, the Black Pup will come up, and we will go 
back in her while you continue your cruise in the 
Tyee. We are going to put you ashore when we 
reach the inlet, so that you won't be in the way if 
there should happen to be a scrimmage, which Lieu- 
tenant Higgins considers not improbable.” 

The boys did not like this disposition of them, for 
they were very anxious to share the glory of the 
capture, but the major had a decisive way of 
speaking on these occasions which made it impos- 
sible to argue the matter, and they were forced to 
reconcile themselves to the inevitable. 

It was now past eight o'clock, and as the Tyee 
glided swiftly along, the full moon came up and 


22 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

marked a broad silvery path over the black waters. 
They reached the mouth of the Pass in another 
hour, and the two boys were bundled noiselessly 
into the dingy that acted as tender to the Tyee. 
Pete was told to paddle — not row — ashore. They 
were instructed by the lieutenant to go to the star- 
board beach, and wait until the Black Pup came up, 
when they were to pilot the engineer to where the 
Nonesuch was lying. 

Captain Pete, however, did not dip his paddle into 
the water until the Tyee had drawn well into the 
mouth of the Pass. Then he paddled vigorously 
but silently to the port or left-hand islet, which was 
the one on which the Nonesuch lay, and the smug- 
gler’s camp was situated. 

‘Tom!” he whispered energetically to his sur- 
prised companion, “Pm gomg to see that row. I 
don’t belong to the revenue service, and I ain’t 
under the lieutenant’s orders! So here goes for 
across the island! You’d better stay by the dingy, 
and hail the Black Pup.” 

“Not much!” replied Tom, whose blood was all 
afire, “I’m going with you !” 

“No, no !” remonstrated Pete, “or if we both go, 
we had better separate. We are not so apt to make 
noise, and get into trouble that way. You go thro’ 
here, and I’ll go up further to the west.” 

Tom was an active and strong boy for his age, 
but he was no match for Pete in woodcraft. He 
soon found himself hopelessly bewildered in the 


23 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

jungle he had attempted to penetrate, and was 
forced to sit down to get his breath, and try to 
figure out the proper direction to go. 

On the other hand, Pete, whose forest training 
and Indian ancestry stood him in good stead at this 
juncture, threaded the maze of tree trunks and 
underbrush with certainty and celerity. His cat- 
like foot fell so softly, that in spite of his heavy 
boots, he did not make the faintest rustle. The 
island was small, and a short interval of this rapid 
progress brought the fisher boy to where he could 
see the sheen of water on the other side. He now 
stopped, and cautiously took his bearings. Yes, 
there were the masts of the Nonesuch, and on close 
inspection he could see her hull lying high and dry 
on the beach. 

The revenue men had calculated that the tide 
would not serve sufficiently to float the schooner be- 
fore midnight, and on this fact they based their 
certainty of finding it in the same spot. What puz- 
zled Pete was that he could see no trace of the 
crew of the Nonesuch. In his anxiety to discover 
them he stealthily drew closer and closer to the boat, 
finally taking off his boots to make more silent prog- 
ress. This would not have facilitated matters 
with a city-bred boy, but Pete, who had gone half 
his life without shoes or stockings, had feet as horny 
as an animal's hoof. 

He crept to the very bows of the boat, and screen- 
ing himself by the low bulwarks, worked his way 


24 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

gradually aft. The cabin of the Nonesuch was 
very low, and came to within nine inches of the 
rail on either side of the vessel. When Pete 
reached the break of this cabin he was startled to 
hear a deep respiration that evidently came from 
the healthy lungs of a sound sleeper. He instinc- 
tively crouched lower, and then warily raised his 
head above the rail. 

There, lying across the cabin doorway, was the 
form of the man he had seen in the afternoon sit- 
ting on the bitts with the rifle across his knee. He 
had apparently been on watch, for his sinewy right 
hand still held the gun, and he lay as if he had 
gradually slipped backwards under the influence of 
the drowsy deity until he had completely succumbed. 
Pete could not see or hear anybody else on board, 
so he concluded that the balance of the crew with 
the Chinamen were camped on shore in preference 
to occupying the stuffy cabin. He was thinking it 
would be a good idea to locate them, when he heard 
a gentle grating noise to his right, and on turning, 
saw that the Tyee had just drifted on the beach. 

A band of moonlight lay white across the sand 
by the bow of the Nonesuch, and Captain Pete, who 
was now all alive, and exerting his wits to the very 
utmost, stepped promptly into this line of light so 
that he was plainly visible on board the Tyee. The 
movement was a hazardous one, but the little fellow 
knew what he was about, and had plenty of nerve. 

Major Fisher and Lieutenant Higgins were nat- 


25 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

urally very much surprised to see Pete, whom they 
supposed to be on the other island, standing here in 
the strip of moonlight by the smuggler’s boat with 
one hand raised in a gesture of evident warning. 
They had been prepared to make a quick rush with 
their men to the Nonesuch, and capture her crew 
in the surprise of the unexpected attack. Now 
they realized, however, that Pete wanted to com- 
municate with them before they made their onset. 

“How did the little imp get there? Is he stand- 
ing in with the smugglers?” muttered the lieuten- 
ant to Major Fisher. 

The major’s quicker intellect and greater knowl- 
edge of boy nature enabled him to comprehend the 
situation sooner than the mind of the revenue mar- 
tinet got around to it. 

“No! That little chap is loyal, or I don’t know 
anything about boy character,” answered he. “He 
has determined to see the capture, and worked his 
way through the island ahead of us. We had 
better find out what he wants, for he seems to have 
some information to give us. I’ll beckon him to 
come.” 

As soon as Pete saw the major’s signal he stepped 
into the shadow again, and before the revenue men 
realized what had become of him, he turned up 
alongside of the Tyee. 

“Where is Tom?” whispered the major, letting 
his personal feelings appear. 

“In the woods, I reckon. He’ll take care of him- 


26 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

self, sir. But I want to tell you that only one of 
the smugglers is on the Nonesuch.” 

“Who is it?” 

“Bill Kelley, sir; leastways it’s the man I took 
for him. I think the rest must be camping ashore, 
and I want to take a scout around, and find them 
before they get on to you.” 

“That is a good plan!” assented the lieutenant 
warmly. “You would make a good revenue man, 
Captain Pete.” 

“But,” suggested the major, “we had better fix 
Kelley so he won't bother us, first. We'll station 
a man by him who can cover him with a gun if he 
wakes up, and keep him harmless.” 

“That's a good idea, too,” agreed Lieutenant 
Higgins. 

One of the trustiest sailors was selected, and Cap- 
tain Pete lead him over and posted him where he 
could command the sleeping smuggler, and then 
returned to the officers. 

“I think you had better let me go now, and hunt 
up the rest of the gang,” said he in his matter-of- 
fact way. 

The two officers gazed at each other, and then at 
Pete, and almost laughed. It was absurd to see 
this mere boy actually taking the lead in the ex- 
pedition, and doing it so effectually that they were, 
in spite of themselves, reduced to playing second 
fiddle. Then the major spoke: 

“I guess you can make the scout with as good 


27 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

judgment as any of us, Captain. So go ahead, but 
be careful of yourself, and when you have located 
them, come right back and let us know.” 

“All right, sir. I’ll be careful.” 

He plunged into the undergrowth again, and 
worked around to a point behind where the None- 
such lay. It was not a dark night, and Pete’s eyes 
had become accustomed to the obscurity. Besides 
that, he was gifted with the vision of a hawk, and 
was able to see things pretty clearly. The first 
discovery he made was the remains of the camp 
fire he had seen from the deck of the Tyee that 
afternoon. Then he found something like a trail; 
he followed it up, and came to a sort of a nook 
formed by the trunks of three large fir trees. Here 
the underbrush had been cleared away, and Pete’s 
errand was successfully accomplished, for there, ly- 
ing on blankets spread over the grass, were the re- 
cumbent forms of nine or ten men. 

Most of them appeared to be asleep, but two, near 
Captain Pete, were conversing in a queer, jerky, 
and yet sing-song tone. He couldn’t — although 
he heard them distinctly — make out a word of what 
they were saying, which was not at all surprising, 
as they were two Chinese coolies, and were prob- 
ably comparing notes on the strange country they 
were invading. Pete’s heart beat high with 
triumph. He turned and glided noiselessly back to 
the boat where Major Fisher and the lieutenant 
were awaiting him. 


28 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Well?” they queried simultaneously. 

“It’s all right!” he replied, “they’re just in back 
there, and all but two Chinamen are asleep and 
snoring.” 

This was good news indeed to the rest of the 
party. They followed Pete as cautiously and 
silently as they could back to the camp, but the oc- 
casional snap as a dried stick was trodden on, or a 
muttered oath from the sailors, showed conclusively 
that they were not as expert woodsmen as the little 
half-breed. 

Major Fisher was next to Pete, and behind him 
came Lieutenant Higgins and his two sailors, as 
they were all forced to go in Indian file by the nar- 
rowness of the trail. The captain silently put out 
his hand, and stopped the major when they had ad- 
vanced to the opening of the nook; the major im- 
mediately communicated the signal to his follower, 
who did the same until it reached the end of the 
line. 

The two coolies were still jabbering in a low tone 
as the revenue men peered into the recess formed 
by the tree trunks. While they hesitated as to what 
action to take, chance decided the matter for them. 
One of the sailors had pressed forward with reck- 
less curiosity, and put his foot in a hole. Over he 
went, and fell against one of the sleeping law- 
breakers, who was promptly aroused, and grappled 
his disturber with an oath. At the same moment 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 29 

the major and lieutenant pulled the hoods off their 
lanterns, and the latter called out: 

“Surrender, men! You are surrounded, and if 
you make any resistance you will be shot down. 
We are United States revenue officers.” 

There was a sudden commotion, some furious 
oaths, and then silence. The major and lieutenant 
stepped forward and confronted their prisoners; 
three white men, and seven frightened Chinese, with 
pigtails as long as your arm. 

The lieutenant produced handcuffs, and pro- 
ceeded rapidly to secure his prisoners. There was 
no resistance — they were all too much surprised 
and awed by the authoritative manner and freely 
displayed weapons of the revenue party. So, in a 
few moments the captives were marched two by two 
to the water side. Here they found the sailor who 
had been left to act as shepherd to Bill Kelley stand- 
ing with his Winchester rifle to his shoulder, and 
aimed at that individual, who was gazing with a 
ferocious expression at the approaching officers. 
The lieutenant stepped up to him, and said lightly, 
as he took the gun from his side : 

“Pd better take that away, Bill, before you’re 
tempted to do harm with it.” 

As the outlaw put up his hands for the cuffs the 
lieutenant produced, he caught sight of Captain 
Pete, who happened to have stepped out into the 
moonlight : 


30 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“That cussed half-breed kid !” said he. 

Tom, whom we left bewildered in the forest, was 
a good deal put out to think that he would be unable 
to be on the scene when the smugglers were cap- 
tured, but after considering the matter fairly he saw 
that if he tried to make a hurried passage through 
the timber to the field of battle, he would come to 
grief, and possibly injure himself by a tumble over 
the fallen logs and thick vines, and that if he went 
slowly he would not arrive in time to see the fun. 

“Heigho!” sighed he mournfully, “the most 
sensible thing I can do is to go back to the boat, 
and watch out for the Black Pup.” 

He did not have to wait long, for in ten minutes 
after he had reached the place where they had left 
the dingy, he heard the noisy little tub puffing in the 
distance. He got out his oars, for he judged it was 
no longer necessary to be cautious — and in any 
event, the row the Pup made would be heard — and 
boldly pulled out to intercept her. 

“Black Pup, ahoy!” he hailed. 

The engineer, who had been instructed in Friday 
Harbor what to expect, slowed up, and Tom came 
alongside. 

“Pm to take you down to the rest of them,” said 
he. 

“Hallo, Mr. Fisher,” returned the engineer, 
“you’re here, are you? Where’s the other boy?” 

“Never mind him,” answered Tom, who was not 


3i 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

exactly sure of Pete's whereabouts anyway, and 
thought excessive candor on the subject out of 
place, “we go right on thro' the passage, and you'd 
better put her ahead as fast as you can." 

The engineer complied with this suggestion, and 
in a few minutes they arrived at the scene of action. 
On the sand between the Tyee and the Nonesuch 
were grouped a number of people, among whom 
Tom could distinguish his father's erect, soldierly 
figure. In a twinkle he had pushed ashore in the 
dingy, and was by his side. 

“Hallo, Tom, so you've turned up all right! I 
was just beginning to worry. Captain Pete says 
you both started together to come here across 
country." 

“Pete's here, is he?" returned his son enviously. 
“Yes, sir, we both started the same time, but I 
think nothing but an eel could have wriggled thro’ 
where I tried, so I went back and brought up the 
Black Pup. Have you got the smugglers ?" 

“Yes, thanks to your friend Pete we have bagged 
them handsomely, and seven yellow beauties into 
the bargain. This is a very lucky day for Pete. 
But now we must attend to business." 

The useless handcuffs were taken off the China- 
men who were pitiable objects in their terror, and 
were driven like a flock of sheep to the forward part 
of the revenue launch. Then for additional secur- 
ity the four smugglers, despite some futile strug- 
gles, were ironed together and pushed on board. 


3 2 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

It was now half-past ten. The lieutenant detailed 
two of his men to wait until the tide turned, and 
then to bring the Nonesuch to Friday Harbor as 
soon as the water was sufficiently deep to set her 
afloat. In the meantime the major said to the two 
boys: 

“Now lads, I think you had better continue your 
voyage in the Tyee. Your father will be anxious 
to see you, Captain Pete, and you may tell him from 
me that you have acted with the courage and judg- 
ment of a man to-day, and that I should be proud 
to have a son like you. Another thing you may 
tell him is that you are entitled to $200 from the 
United States government, for the services of the 
Tyee and yourself in the capture. I will see that 
your bill is promptly put in and paid. Now good- 
bye, boys, off you go !” 


CHAPTER FOUR 


T HE Tyee was half a mile on her homeward way 
before Pete could get rid of the choking in his 
throat. Tom was of course immensely pleased over 
the whole affair — save his own enforced absence — 
and so tickled that the captain had won such com- 
mendation from his father, that he could hardly 
contain himself. He patted his friend on the 
shoulder, and shouted “Hurrah! Ain’t this bully!” 
at least a dozen times. Finally Pete regained the 
self-control that he had only lost after the exciting 
events of the night. It must be acknowledged that 
he carried his head higher than when he brought 
his fish up to Joe Sweeney’s wharf that morning, 
and his heart beat with a proud consciousness that 
he had acquitted himself well, and played a man’s 
part in the most responsible situation that he had 
ever been called to face. But the thought that was 
balm to his heart was how pleased and proud his 
father would be when he heard the words of Major 
Fisher. He turned to his friend, and said: 

“Tom, your father is an awful good man !” 

“You bet he is!” answered Tom, “and he knows 
how to appreciate a fellow, too, don’t he?” 

“That’s it!” rejoined the captain, “I didn’t think 
I’d done anything so darned big, but if he says so 
33 


34 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

it must be true, mustn’t it? By jolly! It’s nice to 
have folks talk like that to you!” 

He lapsed into silence again, and sat thinking 
with shining eyes of the day’s events, until suddenly 
the money part of the affair recurred to him. 

"Jiminy!” he exclaimed, "TWO HUNDRED 
DOLLARS ! ! ! What on earth will I ever do with 
it all?” 

Tom laughed. Two hundred dollars was not 
such a stupendous sum to him as it was to Pete, 
who had probably never seen so much money all at 
once, and conjured it up as an immense and shining 
heap of gold, with unlimited possibilities in the way 
of purchase. 

"Buy yourself a new boat,” suggested Tom, "or 
go into business, and open a store.” 

"No,” answered Pete, "I’ll give a hundred of it 
to father, and a hundred I’ll keep myself and put 
in the savings bank. There’s father’s light in the 
window!” he added suddenly, "he always puts one 
up for me when I’m out late in the boat.” 

In a few moments the Tyee was at anchor, and 
the boys came through the gate to the little front 
piazza of the rough unpainted box house which was 
Pete’s home. 

Mr. Graignic heard their approach, and met them 
at the door. Pete promptly introduced his new 
friend, and Tom looked at Captain Pete’s father 
with much interest. He was a small-sized, roughly 
dressed man of about fifty years, with a toil-seamed 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 35 

and weather-beaten, but intelligent face. He wel- 
comed Tom cordially, and then spoke some words 
in Indian dialect over his shoulder, which had the 
effect of bringing a middle-aged and rather comely 
Siwash woman from the kitchen. 

“This is my mother,” said Pete. 

“How-do ?” she said, “I — am — glad — to — see 
— you .” 

She spoke with painful distinctness of articula- 
tion that surprised Tom, but as Mrs. Graignic was 
the first Indian woman he had ever met, he was in- 
terested in observing her impassive face, and the 
beady black eyes which surveyed him with extraor- 
dinary acuteness. 

Then came the story of the day, which Tom told 
with great animation, doing full justice to the 
achievements of Captain Pete. The Frenchman 
was wonderfully interested in the narration, and 
kept slapping his leg, and snapping his fingers 
throughout the recital in such an extremely lively 
way that Tom talked as if inspired. When the 
story came to the parting words of Major Fisher, 
and the two hundred dollars, he held his hands — in 
awe-stricken admiration — to heaven, and even the 
stolid Indian woman gave vent to a profound grunt 
of appreciation. At the end of the tale the father 
embraced his son in the affectionate and demon- 
strative French manner, and told him he was proud 
of him, and finally began to question him again 
about the affair. When, however, Pete told some- 


36 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

what proudly of Bill Kelley’s recognizing him as he 
stood in the moonlight, he said quickly : 

“C’est mal! Zat’s bad! Bill Kelley won’t for- 
get you, or me, for zis night’s work. But zere, 
Pete, n’importe! never mind! If he interferes wiz 
us, we’ll give him ze best we’ve got in ze house, and 
if zat ain’t enough for him we’ll go out in ze back 
yard and get some more.” 

By this figure of rhetoric, Mr. Graignic, whose 
command of the English idiom was perfect, and 
only made notable by sibillance, amusingly like a 
lisp, foreign to Anglo-Saxon pronunciation, meant 
that if Kelley attempted to retaliate he would find 
himself confronted by some one willing and able to 
defend himself. Of this there could be no doubt, 
for the little Frenchman was of the stern stuff of 
which pioneers are made, and had proven his qual- 
ity many a time in early days on that wild frontier. 

When Tom was called the next morning, the 
fisherman’s family had already apparently arisen. 
As he dressed himself the grateful odors of a back- 
woods breakfast greeted his nostrils, and hurried 
his movements. By the time he had his trousers 
on, Captain Pete appeared with a tin basin and a 
brimming bucket of fresh spring water, cold as ice. 
This was just what Tom had been looking for, and 
throwing off his shirt, with the assistance of a large 
piece of yellow laundry soap he scrubbed himself 
until the skin fairly glowed. Pete sat by on the bed 
watching appreciatively, and when the operation 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 3 7 

was over, and Tom’s curly hair brushed smoothly 
as might be, he said : 

“Now then, let’s go to breakfast; it’s all ready.” 

“I am all ready for it!” announced Tom blithely, 
and the two went down together. 

The meal was served in the large kitchen, and 
the brisk fire burning in the cook stove was not 
unpleasant on this cool, crisp Puget Sound Sep- 
tember morning. There was fried ham of the 
Frenchman’s own curing, and chicken, and an om- 
elette, and hot biscuits, and good French coffee, 
and the boys ate a hearty meal, though it took a 
long time for them to do it, for their appetites were 
in the best of order. 

Tom was much interested in Pete’s brothers and 
sisters. Their names seemed to be legion, although 
there were in reality only seven, three boys and four 
girls, but as Tom said to himself, they got so mixed 
up that it was impossible to count them. The eld- 
est was eleven years old, and then they were strung 
along from that sturdy urchin, down to the sallow- 
faced babe in the arms of that queer, impassive In- 
dian mother, to whose stolidity he could not ac- 
custom himself. She seemed above — or below — 
pain or grief, and incapable of being affected by 
external conditions. She answered her husband’s 
remarks without a line of her face softening, and 
when her infant caressed her cheek with tiny hands 
not a feature relaxed. Pete was evidently her 
favorite, and she displayed her partiality in a char- 


38 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

acteristic way. Whenever she saw an opportunity 
she piled another spoonful of omelet or potatoes on 
his plate, or gave him a slice of meat, and Tom 
thought it a very practical method of demonstrat- 
ing affection. 

“Pete,” said Mr. Graignic, when they were at 
last through eating, “you had better dig a bucketful 
of clams for dinner. I’ll make a clam chowder.” 

“All right, sir,” answered the captain, “would you 
like to go along, Tom?” 

“Yes!” Tom replied eagerly, “If you will give 
me a shovel, I’ll dig too. I never dug clams be- 
fore.” 

This announcement filled the Graignic family, 
who dug clams every day in the year when it was 
low tide, with wonder, but they were sufficiently 
courteous not to comment on the strangeness of the 
fact, and Pete having supplied him with a shovel, 
they started out. 

The tide was very low. On Puget Sound there 
is an exceedingly long “run out,” as it is locally 
called. The tide rises about nineteen feet above 
low water level, and where the shores are shelving 
a long stretch of sand is laid bare by the falling 
waters. There was such an extent of beach a 
quarter of a mile below the Graignic house, and 
towards this the boys directed their steps. As they 
approached the water, the sand which is more peb- 
bly and not so white as on the Atlantic coast, be- 
came moist, and Tom noticed that every moment 


39 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

or so a thin squirt of water would fly up out of tiny 
holes at his feet. As the squirts grew more fre- 
quent, he became interested in the phenomenon, and 
thinking he had made a discovery he finally ob- 
served to Pete. 

‘There must be a stratum of water under us, Cap- 
tain. Do you see how the pressure of our feet 
makes it shoot up out of these funny little holes ?” 

The captain looked at him suspiciously a moment, 
and then said compassionately, but with latent 
amusement in his eye: 

“Why, Tom, those are clams. There are many 
more where we are going.” 

Tom did not feel like exposing his ignorance any 
further, so he followed in silence. Presently Pete 
stopped and began digging. Every shovelful of 
sand brought a clam and perhaps two. Then Tom 
thought he would help, so he selected a little round 
hole such as he noticed Pete picked out when he 
put his spade in. The first shovelful did not bring 
a clam to light, nor the second. He thought it 
curious, but kept on digging until his industrious 
spade had excavated a hole big and deep enough for 
a well, he thought, and still no clam. At last the 
captain turned around, and surveying the great pit 
with surprise, asked him what he was digging that 
cellar for. 

“I cannot find the clam!” Tom answered some- 
what testily, straightening his tired back, and wip- 
ing the perspiration from his brow. 


40 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Why, there isn’t any there.” 

“Oh, come now!” Tom rejoined, “yes, there is! 
I dug at one of the little round holes just as you 
do, and he must be in here somewhere !” 

Pete heartlessly burst out laughing, and re- 
sponded : 

“That was a worm hole, Tom. Here is the 
worm, don’t you see ?” 

And then he pointed out a long, stringy worm that 
Tom had energetically chopped into a dozen frag- 
ments. This worm, he explained, makes a hole that 
is frequently mistaken by “tenderfeet” for a clam 
hole, but is readily distinguishable from the simon- 
pure article by the clam expert, because close ob- 
servation reveals that it is truly spherical, and 
coated with a sort of slime that does not appear on 
the real bivalvular aperture. 

This was Tom’s first lesson in Clamology, a very 
important branch of study to the dwellers on Puget 
Sound. Afterwards Pete pointed out to him that 
there were minute but radical differences in the 
holes of five distinct varieties of the genus clam, so 
that when one knew them, just the kind that was 
wanted could be selected. He took Tom a little 
further, and showed him a larger hole which he said 
was that of a goeyduck. Tom stared at it with 
much interest, but would not commit himself by 
making any inquiry. Directly however, he saw an- 
other large hole near by, and indicating it to Pete, 
remarked that they were in luck to find two goey- 


4i 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

ducks so close together. Pete smiled again at this 
observation, and informed him that that was a 
horse clam. Tom kept his mouth as tight shut as 
a clam after this, thinking he had shown enough 
greenness in one day. 

When Captain Pete started to dig out that goey- 
duck, he made a hole almost three feet deep, and 
as big around as a molasses barrel. Then, as the 
water percolated through the sand rapidly and 
brought large masses down from the sides, he asked 
Tom for assistance, and by their united efforts they 
managed to go twelve inches further. Then the 
captain exclaimed: 

“Here he is!” 

And reaching down, he picked up what looked to 
Tom like the father of all clams. It was in fact 
a Puget Sound goeyduck, the largest edible clam 
I have ever come across. This one weighed about 
four pounds, and had outgrown his shell to such a 
ridiculous extent that it looked as disproportionate 
to the size of the clam’s body as a pelican’s wings 
do to his. And what struck Tom as peculiar, the 
part of the brobdignagian bivalve that was exposed 
— where the shell failed to cover it — had a skin that 
was soft and flexible, and lightly corrugated like a 
rat’s tail. His neck, or whatever the protuberance 
may be called that projects from the body of the 
clam, was also noteworthy. It was about five 
inches long when Tom saw it, but Pete told him that 
the animal or mollusc had the power of elongating 


42 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

it to such an extent that its end would reach to the 
mouth of the hole by which they had detected it, 
or fully four feet. He also told Tom, which fact 
was fully verified afterwards, that the body of this 
giant clam of Puget Sound was delicious when 
fried, and its neck made a capital clam chowder. 

When they got back to the house, Mr. Graignic 
proposed that he and the boys should take the Tyee 
and go to Dog-fish Pass, as he wanted to see the 
scene of the capture. The boys were delighted, and 
they immediately took their departure. 


CHAPTER FIVE 


r T'HE boys anchored the Tyee over the spot where 
* the Nonesuch had lain on the beach the night 
before, there now being some six feet of water there. 
Pete went over the whole story again for the benefit 
of both Mr. Graignic and Tom, and a very absorbing 
subject it was to all of them. 

While Pete was talking, his father’s keen, gray 
eyes were roving to and fro, examining everything 
about the scene of the encounter, with the utmost 
minuteness and care. So like a search did this 
scrutiny seem that Tom’s attention was attracted 
by it, and he began to anticipate something; tho’ 
what discovery he should expect, or what the elder 
Graignic was looking for, he had not the remotest 
idea. 

At the outer end of the little curved sand-pit 
there was a spot where the shore shelved abruptly 
into the deep water. Here a sort of swirl seemed 
to be caused by the current, for a chip of wood was 
floating lazily there, and turning end for end, but 
never apparently escaping from the little whirlpool, 
as others did. 

As Captain Pete’s story neared the end, Mr. 
Graignic’s hawk-like vision became concentrated on 
this piece of wood, and by a natural consequence, 
43 


44 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Tom’s too. Around it went, never getting out of 
a circumscribed limit, and once it even held back 
another small bit of drift that was carried against 
it by the tide. This finally escaped, and was 
driven by the current toward the north end of the 
pass. It seemed strange to Tom that one piece 
went, and the other remained floating quietly 
around, and he began to wonder what law of grav- 
itation this chip obeyed, and why the other one 
should feel a dififerent impulse. 

By this time Pete’s eyes were attracted to the 
common object of his father’s and Tom’s gaze. As 
he wound up his narration, involuntarily watching 
the chip as the others did, he suddenly broke ofif and 
jumped up, exclaiming: 

“By Gum! father, I believe that chip is moored 
to something!” 

“I sink you are right, my son,” answered the 
elder Graignic, “I fancy it is moored to a package of 
opium sunken by ze smugglers. Zey sometimes 
hide zeir cargo zis way when zey sink it possible 
zey may be in danger of capture.” 

It did not take the boys long to haul the dingy up, 
and in a few minutes Mr. Graignic had the sus- 
picious chip of wood in his hand. Sure enough, a 
fragment of fine fishing line was tied to it, of a color 
so closely resembling the wood that the sharpest 
eye could not detect it at a distance. Mr. Graignic 
hauled on it gently, and it came in to him hand over 
hand. At the end of a few feet it was found to be 


45 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

knotted to a length of manilla rope the size of a 
clothes-line. This was in turn eagerly hauled upon. 
The weight proved that some heavy object was 
attached to it, and at last the fisherman had to stand 
up in the stern sheets of the boat, and put forth his 
strength. 

Slowly the burden arose, until it appeared, a 
large and weighty box, above the surface of the 
water. The boys’ willing hands grasped it, and it 
was taken into the boat. It was a wooden packing 
case such as contains tinned vegetables, and the fish- 
erman judged it must weigh eighty or ninety 
pounds. They pulled back to the Tyee, speculating 
freely on its contents, and all agreeing it contained 
opium. 

As soon as it was hoisted on board, Pete got a 
hatchet and pried the cover off. It was filled with 
small tins, each apparently weighing about a pound 
and a half. Some Chinese characters were in- 
scribed on a red label on the tops of the cans. 

“Hoopla ! it’s opium all right,” said Mr. Graignic, 
“and ze United States revenue stamp is not on it. 
There must be a zousand or twelve hundred dollars 
worz of ze dope. You see” — he added to the 
boys — “I suspected somezing like zis when you were 
telling ze story last night. When zese fellows 
make one run of Chinamen, zey almost always 
bring over ze dope at ze same time, and as you did 
not find it when ze capture was made, I have mis- 
trust it was cached somewhere in ze neighbor- 


46 Captain Pete of Puget Sound. 

hood. Zey probably sunk it after you boys went 
zro’ yesterday afternoon, knowing zey’d have to 
wait until ze tide served to get off ze Nonesuch, and 
zinking zat some revenue man might blunder in on 
zem. Do you know we get half ze value of zis 
opium as reward for finding it?” 

“Gosh!” exclaimed Pete, “I am getting so rich 
that I don’t know what to do with all my money.” 

“Let’s take the whole business to Friday Harbor, 
and give it to my father,” said Tom, “I am afraid 
some one will come along and take it away from 
us.” 

“Zey’d have to fight for it,” remarked the fisher- 
man with an ominous flash of his eye, “but never- 
zeless, zat’s about ze best zing we can do. So all 
hands up anchor, ahoy !” 

It was quickly gotten aboard, and once more the 
gallant sloop sped away for Friday Harbor with a 
bone in her teeth. 

The revenue cutter to which the Black Pup was 
attached had just turned up in Friday Flarbor, and 
Major Fisher, Lieutenant Higgins, the commander 
of the Pup, and the captain of the cutter were all 
gathered in the latter’s after cabin discussing the 
capture of Bill Kelley, and the Chinese. It was an 
important event in the annals of the custom’s 
authorities, and Captain Brady knew that the 
Collector in Port Townsend would be greatly 
pleased on account of the haul of Chinamen, as the 


47 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Mongolians had been evading the law, and slipping 
over the frontier since the passage of the Immigra- 
tion Act, in a manner and with a success that was 
extremely aggravating to those whose duty it was 
to keep them out of the United States. 

The capture of Bill Kelley and his gang was even 
a greater satisfaction to the officers of the law. He 
was known as the most active and daring smuggler 
on the Sound, but so acute was he that though he 
made runs almost weekly, and frequently boasted of 
the fact while spending the gains of his illegal trade 
in Whatcom or Port Townsend, in the reckless 
orgies in which he indulged after his work was 
done, he had never been caught or evidence gath- 
ered to convict him. He was so lawless and violent 
that even his associates stood in awe of him, and 
very naturally such islanders in the archipelago as 
became accidentally aware of his movements were 
unwilling to denounce him for fear of future re- 
prisals from the ruffian and his comrades. His ex- 
ample too, and apparent ability to defy capture had 
emboldened others less daring to try their hands 
at the business. So on the whole, the taking of 
this outlaw was even more gratifying to the author- 
ities than the seizure of the Chinamen, inasmuch as 
one struck at the fountain head, while the other 
only momentarily interrupted the stream of illegal 
immigration. 

“Well,” summed up Captain Brady, “the arrest 
was a brilliant achievement, and I congratulate you, 


48 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Major Fisher and Lieutenant Higgins, on making 
it. You will both gain great credit for it at head- 
quarters. 

“Upon my word,” observed the major, “it seems 
to me that if there is any particular credit in the 
matter, it is due to those two young rascals, Pete 
and Tom, more than to any one else connected with 
the affair. In the first place they discovered the 
Nonesuch in Dog-fish Pass, and then: Tom was 
bright enough to propose coming home and notify- 
ing me. Captain Pete by his good seamanship, 
carried this out in the least possible time where 
other boys would have bungled it. Then, Lieuten- 
ant, when you and I got on the ground, we found 
Pete already there ahead of us, and but for his 
valuable assistance and scouting powers, ten to one 
if we had not had trouble, and possibly been cap- 
tured ourselves, instead of taking the outlaws.” 

“Every word of that is true !” affirmed the 
lieutenant warmly. “Those two boys deserve all 
the praise that can be given them.” 

At this moment there came a respectful knock 
on the cabin door, and the steward stuck his bullet 
head in with the announcement that a man and two 
boys had just come aboard the cutter from a sloop, 
and wanted to see Major Fisher and the captain. 
The major looked up quizzically: 

“What’s up, now, I wonder ?” said he, “Captain, 
that is our two boys again, for a ducat ! Shall we 
have them in here, and see what they want?” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 49 

“Of course!” answered the captain, “steward, 
bring them down here.” 

“They’ve got a big box, sir, that they won’t leave.” 

“Bring that, too,” rapped out the captain. 

They looked at each other in astonishment as Mr. 
Graignic, with the packing case of opium, followed 
by the two boys, came through the doorway into 
the after-cabin. Tom, who seemed to be nominated 
as spokesman, moved forward, and commenced : 

“We have got a box of opium here — ” 

The captain, and his two friends jumped to their 
feet. 

“The deuce you have!” ejaculated the officer, 
“where did you get it ?” 

Tom began and told the story from the beginning, 
the other corroborating him as to details, and 
finally the box was opened and the cans of opium 
exhibited. The lieutenant was the first to speak: 

“Well, I swear!” said he explosively, “I think I 
had better shut up shop ! I ought to have thought 
of that, and looked for the dope myself, and here 
two boys and a fisherman pick up a reward of over 
$600 that ought to belong to me, right under my 
nose. I’d better resign from the service.” 

Major Fisher and the captain laughed at this 
comic lamentation heartily, for they knew that 
Lieutenant Higgins was a very alert and zealous 
officer, and not nearly so intent upon gaining money 
rewards as he was upon doing his duty, and reaping 
honor in the service. 


50 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Never mind, Lieutenant/’ said the captain; “Mr. 
Graignic and the boys have earned the prize fairly, 
and you’ll have to take a back seat until the next 
time.” 

The opium was left on board in Captain Brady’s 
care, as he was going with the cutter the next day 
to Port Townsend to deliver the smugglers and 
Chinamen for trial. As the major had to go down 
on the same business, it was decided that he should 
travel on the cutter, and at his suggestion the genial 
captain invited the two boys to make the trip with 
him. As Pete had never seen so large a city as 
Port Townsend he was delighted with the prospect, 
and accepted the invitation gladly. Tom, who 
knew the place well, anticipated much pleasure in 
showing him the sights. 

Mr. Graignic took the Tyee home, and promised 
to come in four days to Friday Habor, at which 
time Tom intended to go home with Captain Pete, 
and conclude his much interrupted visit. 

In the fall of 1888 Port Townsend had from five 
to seven thousand population, and was one of the 
boom cities of the new northwest. It is located on 
a large bluff or headland, at the foot of which runs 
a long, wide street on which pretty much all the 
business of the city was transacted. Here saloons, 
wholesale houses, retail stores, real estate offices, 
and dance houses elbowed each other, and put forth 
their bids for trade. Above, spread over the brow 
of the headland, was the residence portion of the 


5i 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

town, the population becoming more and more at- 
tenuated as it led back into the various “additions” 
to Port Townsend, platted by the real estate spec- 
ulator, in which property worth perhaps $50 per 
acre was sold at that price per lot to fatuous buyers 
from the east, or sanguine residents who listened 
to the song of the siren, and allowed themselves 
to be persuaded that Port Townsend was going to 
become a railroad terminus — that is was to be the 
greatest manufacturing city of the northwest — and 
that in ten years of glorious development it would 
at least rival San Francisco, if not Chicago and 
New York. 

It was, at any rate, the first port of Entry on 
Puget Sound, and possessed fair shipping facilities. 
These two facts warranted to some extent the 
claims of ardent citizens. Also the National 
Government was just about to erect a magnificent 
stone building for the transaction of the customs 
business, the appropriation being already made, so 
just at this time, as has been said, Port Townsend 
was a boom city. 


CHAPTER SIX 


W HEN the cutter arrived in Port Townsend 
harbor, the boys disembarked with the major 
and captain, and accompanied them to visit the 
Collector and report the capture. The Collector at 
that time, pending the erection of the new building, 
occupied offices in a one-story wooden structure on 
Water street, the mercantile thoroughfare men- 
tioned in the last chapter. He was a grizzled old 
man, with a war worn and convivial countenance 
that could, however, be stern and even inveterate 
on occasion, as his enemies had discovered. But 
when Major Fisher introduced the two lads, and 
told him the story that has been related in these 
pages, the old man was pleased thro’ and thro’. 
He was especially taken with Captain Pete and 
cross-examined him until he had mastered each 
detail. Then he stood beside the boy with his 
hand on his shoulder, and said, chuckling with sat- 
isfaction : 

“By George ! that’s the kind of lads we breed out 
here on the Sound. I tell you, this is a great 
country — (“kentry,” he said) “and your effete East 
ain’t in it! The newspapers shall print this story, 
every word of it.” 

Then he thrust his hand in his trousers’ pocket, 
52 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 53 

and pulled it out with a coin, which he handed Pete 
saying : 

“Here! you two boys go out now and have a 
good time until we’re through business ; and 
mind you, both of you, with the captain and 
the major, are coming up to take dinner with me 
to-night.” 

“But this is a twenty-dollar gold piece!” ex- 
claimed Pete with awe. 

“Of course it is !” roared the Collector, “and you 
and Tom are to spend every cent of it before you 
come back, too. Make it fly, boys,” added he 
kindly as he pushed them out of the door, and re- 
turned to his chair. 

The two boys went down the street, Captain Pete 
feeling bewildered by the sudden possession of un- 
told wealth in the shape of a broad, shining twenty- 
dollar gold piece. 

“Whatever shall we do with it, Tom?” he asked, 
“we CAN’T spend it !” 

“Oh, I guess we’ll contrive somehow or other,” 
said Tom, “here’s the Red Front general store. 
Let’s go in here.” 

Captain Pete followed obediently, for he was as 
much at sea here as Tom had been when they dug 
clams together on Waldron island. The clerk who 
came forward was a stylishly dressed young man 
with his hair parted in the middle, before whom 
Pete felt inclined to cringe, but Tom said in a lordly 
way: 


54 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Let me see some of your boys’ suits to fit my 
friend here.” 

“Certainly, sir, step this way,” answered the 
clerk deferentially, promptly recognizing Tom’s 
social superiority, and fitness to transact business. 
He handed down several suits from the shelves, 
naming their prices as he did so until Tom finally 
selected one, and said: 

“I think this will do. Go behind there, and try 
it on, Pete.” 

Pete, who had been watching the progress of 
the transaction with eyes as wide as saucers, and a 
feeling that this could not really be he, started 
obediently forward. Before he tried on his suit, 
however, Tom ordered a pair of neat, laced boots 
for him, and made him put them on, and wound up 
by purchasing a sailor blue shirt and a cap. When 
Captain Pete had everything donned, Tom said to 
the clerk: 

“Make me a bill of that, please.” 

And then he pulled his friend around in front of 
a pier glass and made him take a look at the new 
Captain Pete. At first the fisher lad positively did 
not recognize himself, and when he saw what a 
trim, good-looking little fellow he was in this new 
guise, he reddened with pride and pleasure. Just 
then the clerk came from the back of the store, and 
handed the bill to Tom, saying: 

“Ten dollars and eighty cents* sir.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 55 

“Pull out your money, Pete, and pay the bill,” 
said Tom. 

Pete’s expressive face clouded over at a sudden 
thought, and he said in a low voice to his friend: 

“Do you think I ought to spend all this money 
on myself, Tom? Shouldn’t I take some home to 
my father and mother ?” 

“You know what the Collector said; that you 
were to spend all of it,” answered Tom, “so go 
ahead. It’s all right. You’ve got plenty more 
coming for the father and mother when you get 
paid off for the capture of the smugglers and 
opium.” 

“That’s so!” said Pete with a sigh of relief, for 
he did hate the idea of taking off those clothes, and 
being metamorphosed into that ragged urchin 
again that he now hoped he had bidden farewell to. 
So he paid the bill with the gold piece, and received 
nine dollars and twenty cents in change, which he 
handed to Tom, saying: 

“Now buy yourself something. It’s as much 
yours as mine.” 

But Tom would have none of it, and pushed his 
hand back with the remark : 

“No, no, Pete! the Collector gave it to you; he 
only told me to help you spend it. And besides I’ve 
got lots.” 

And he exhibited a handful of silver. If Pete 
had been acquainted with the phrase he would have 


56 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

denounced Tom’s words as sophistical, but as he 
was not, he was compelled to give in to his generous 
friend, and they left the store together. 

“Now Pete,” said Tom, “I think we had better 
hunt up a barber’s shop and spend two bits for 
getting your hair cut. It’s rather long.” 

The captain had become conscious while gazing 
in the mirror that the one point which marred his 
appearance was his long, black, straggly hair, so he 
meekly answered : 

“I guess you’re right, Tom. If my hair was cut 
like yours I am sure it would look better.” 

They found a shop, and Pete’s locks were shorn. 
Now he looked like a very gentlemanly boy, deeply 
tanned by the sun, and showing signs of hard work, 
but he had a healthy, wholesome appearance that 
was good to see, and Tom was proud to walk along 
the street with him. They strolled along at leisure, 
and the fisher lad gazed his fill at the shop win- 
dows. He had never seen such displays in his life, 
and Tom would hardly drag him from one before 
he would become glued in front of another — stock 
still and all eyes. A display of hardware in a large 
window capped the climax, and a little, nickle- 
plated toy engine that was working as an advertise- 
ment, drew exclamations of wonder and delight 
from him. He was a born engineer, this boy, and 
he simply would not go further until he understood 
every point in the working of this engine. He was 
familiar with the principle, his father having ex- 


57 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

plained that to him, but he had never had it exem- 
plified before in such a way that he could see every 
working part. Tom was greatly astonished to find 
how quick and intelligent were the observa- 
tions and deductions of the half-breed boy, and be- 
gan to perceive that, much as he had admired his 
new acquaintance, he had rather underrated the 
powers of his intellect. At last Tom got him away, 
and they went back to the Collector’s office. When 
they entered the major looked up, and saw his son 
and another boy as he thought, and said : 

“Where did you leave Pete, Tom?” Then see- 
ing the two boys grin, he recognized the captain. 
“By Jove!” exclaimed he, “Pete, now you look like 
what you are — a thorough little gentleman. What 
do you think, Collector ?” 

The latter had been staring hard at the captain. 

“Well, Pete,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, 
“I’ll not make you proud. You look all right, tho’, 
and fit to go to dinner with the Queen of England 
instead of a democratic old gentleman like myself. 
However, I hope your new clothes have not spoiled 
your appetite, for we are going to have a good 
dinner.” 

“I think you’ll find my appetite in it’s proper 
place, sir,” answered Pete, with modest confidence 
in his powers. 

“Well, come along then, major, we won’t make it 
wait.” And they all went up the hill to the Col- 
lector’s house. 


58 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

This was the first evening Pete had ever spent 
in a refined household, and the experience was like 
a beautiful dream to him. When he was presented 
to the Collector’s wife and two daughters, one 
grown, and the other about his own age, he blushed 
high in his sunburnt cheek, but managed to pre- 
serve the modest and steady demeanor that was 
natural to him, and he speedily became a favorite 
with all of them. Grace, the fourteen-year-old 
damsel, to the great amusement of her father and 
mother, immediately took the captain under her 
wing, and with all the aplomb of a woman of 
society put him at his ease, and made him feel 
perfectly at home. 

The truth of the matter was that Pete was a born 
gentleman. He possessed as a birthright that 
simplicity and regard for others’ rights and feel- 
ings which is known as Courtesy. He was the off- 
spring of a union between a French sailor and an 
Indian woman, and had been brought up amid 
the hardships and vicissitudes of a frontier life, but 
nevertheless he held his own among those who 
possessed all the advantages he lacked, and was 
freely accepted as an equal by reason of his inborn 
qualities of Honesty, Sincerity and Force — in 
other words, Character. 

When the half-breed boy went to bed that night 
he felt that a new life had dawned upon him. 
He compared in his own mind the people with 
whom he had passed the evening and those he had 


59 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

lived among up to this time. He was far too loyal 
to think lightly of his father and his mother be- 
cause they had not the advantages of his new 
friends, “but,” he thought, “may not I, by per- 
severance and hard work, raise myself to be the 
equal of such people ?” 

At last he fell asleep, and dreamed that Grace 
and he were sailing on the Tyee, in a far-off sea, 
only they two in the boat; and that he was re- 
sponsible for her life. And he trimmed his sails 
carefully, and stood with a watchful eye at the 
helm. 

That evening, Mr. Varian, a reporter of the 
Port Townsend Leader, had called to interview 
Pete, having heard of the Dog-fish Pass incident. 
The next morning the Leader contained a cleverly 
written story in which Pete was given the whole 
credit of both the Chinese and opium episodes. 
This made him both ashamed and furious. He 
protested against having such unmerited glory 
thrust upon him. He asserted vigorously that 
Tom deserved as much credit in the affair of the 
capture of the smugglers as he did himself, and 
that he wouldn’t have had sense enough to have 
gone back and notified Major Fisher of the dis- 
covery of the outlaws if Tom had not suggested it. 
And as to the opium find, that was entirely due to 
his father’s sagacity, for neither Tom nor he would 
have had the brains to discover it in a thousand 
years. Tom was not the least bit jealous of his 


6o Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

friend’s sudden popularity. On the contrary it 
only seemed to knit the bonds of friendship closer 
between him and Captain Pete. This was the first 
real boy intimacy Tom had ever made, and his 
father encouraged it, feeling satisfied that it would 
do them both good. Before the Port Townsend 
visit was over, they became as closely attached to 
each other as ever were Damon and Pythias. 

During these few days the captain made a num- 
ber of acquaintances, and when he and Tom were 
on the street a great deal of notice was taken of 
them. Both their heads, however, were too steady 
to be turned, and they reached the end of their stay 
without its having done either of them much harm. 

The boys returned to Friday Harbor on the little 
mail steamer, Evangel. It was a beautiful trip 
among the islands, and especially so to Tom as it 
was comparatively new to him, while Pete was ac- 
quainted with every headland and tide-flat from 
Smith’s island, to Speiden. 

Mr. Graignic was waiting for them as he had 
promised, with the Tyee, but Tom wanted to go up 
to the hotel and see his mother before they started, 
and he insisted on Pete accompanying him. Mrs. 
Fisher was delighted to see them both, and much 
pleased to note Pete’s improved appearance and be- 
havior. Indeed there was a change going on in the 
lad, and Mrs. Fisher, in whom the maternal instinct 
was strongly developed, perhaps fathomed his 
feelings more nearly than any one. The boy had 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 61 

warmly appealed to her heart from the first time 
she had looked into his honest eyes. Pete seemed 
to feel an attraction to her too, and a surety of 
recognition he experienced with no other per- 
son. Perhaps this feeling helped attach him so 
strongly to Tom. At any rate when she quietly 
congratulated him on his good luck in the matter of 
the capture, and warmly said she was sure he de- 
served it, avoiding all mention of his changed ap- 
pearance, he was entirely satisfied, for some subtle 
sense told him this lady noted a deeper alteration in 
him than the mere physical one others, less spiritu- 
ally gifted, observed. 

When the boys said good-bye she gave her hand 
to Pete and told him to take care of Tom. This 
seemed a sacred mission to him ; he inwardly re- 
solved that Tom should never suffer in life if he 
could help it, if only for this sweet lady’s sake. 

Then came the pleasant sail to Waldron island 
on the Tyee. Mrs. Graignic welcomed the boys, 
and seemed best pleased when Pete got off his new 
toggery, and looked once more the half-breed boy 
fisher. Poor woman! Instinct possibly warned 
her a gulf was widening between her son and 
herself, and that these new associations and new 
apparel only broadened it. A line of pathos seemed 
to soften the stolidity of her features, which the 
lad, absorbed in his new thoughts, did not notice. 


CHAPTER SEVEN 


OM slept soundly that night, and did not wake 



1 until he was aroused by an animated voice 
outside his door and Pete came into his room, 
dissipating the last remnants of his drowsiness by 
shaking him vigorously, and saying: 

“Get up, quick, Tom ! There is a deer swimming 
over from the Sucia islands, and we are going to 
head him off in the boat. Wouldn’t you like to 
come ?” 

“Of course I would!” cried Tom, the news bring- 
ing him out of his bed and into his trousers as rap- 
idly as a fireman dresses when the gong strikes. 

When Tom got downstairs Mr. Graignic and 
the captain already had the small boat shoved out, 
and were waiting. He jumped into the stern; 
Pete was already at the bow, and the fisherman had 
the oars. Away they went, heading obliquely for 
the black spot in the smooth water half a mile away 
which Tom now made out to be a buck’s head and 
antlers. Mr. Graignic as has been said, was not a 
large man, but years of wholesome living and 
severe toil had tempered his frame until every 
sinew in his body was strung like steel wire, and 
the way he made that skiff hum filled Tom with 
admiration for the old pioneer’s physical prowess. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 63 

The buck, as yet unconscious of danger, was 
heading for a promontory that projected from the 
coast of Waldron island to the southward of the 
point from which the hunters had started. A line 
drawn from the deer to the point of the promontory, 
and then back again to the boat would have made 
an acute triangle like this: 



But the pursuers’ aim was to intercept him before 
he reached the shore, and was lost to them in the 
woods. Therefore they steered to head him at 
point A on the diagram. The buck had been 
swimming quietly when the chase began, but a hun- 
dreds yards of water had not been covered when the 
captain who sat facing the quarry, observed: 

“He sees us now, and has shaken out a reef.” 

Which meant that the deer had redoubled his 
exertions. The fisherman did not waste breath in 
reply, but turned the head of his boat so as to bring 
the point of intersection a little nearer the shore, 
and threw his weight upon the oars in a way that 
made the stout ash blades bend, and sent the skiff 
ahead with increased velocity. Tom now noticed 
that Pete had a light pole, about ten feet long, in his 
hands, and was deftly lashing a sharp knife to it. 

Now they began to near the buck; and as he 
turned his head toward the boat Tom could see the 


64 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

white of his eye, and that the pace was distressing 
him. Now, too, he discovered that his hunters 
were going to intercept him if he swam on in a 
direct line for the shore, and he began to diverge. 
This manoeuvre was promptly communicated to his 
father by the captain, and with a sweep of his oar 
the handy sailor brought the skiff around more, and 
followed almost in a direct line; the difference being 
that the poor hunted creature could not reach the 
shore on this tack. He had sealed his own fate. 

The chase grew more and more exciting, though 
scarcely a word was spoken by Tom’s companions. 
Not more than sixty yards separated the boat and 
the buck — the hunters and the hunted — and the 
deer was swimming broad away from the land. 
His labored breathing could be heard, as he 
threshed gallantly thro’ the waters in his effort to 
escape his fate, but alas! thought Tom, whose 
sympathies were now with the splendid animal, it 
was of no avail. Foot by foot, and inch by inch 
the distance was lessened until there were only 
twenty yards between them. Then the buck turned 
his strained and appealing eye back to the boat — he 
was appalled by the nearness of his foes — and 
made one more frantic endeavor to escape. He 
did actually gain for a few moments, in spite of all 
Mr. Graignic could do, and then Tom could see his 
strength failing. The boat hauled up on him hand 
over hand — it was within eight — five yards. 
Captain Pete stood up with the improvised spear 



CAPTAIN PETE STOOD UP WITH THE SPEAR IN HIS HANDS 
































































































Captain Pete of Puget Sound 65 

in his strong, brown hand — nearer — nearer yet — 
Tom’s breath came with a sob — Ah! 

THERE! ! ! 

Pete had leaned over, and thrust sharply with his 
knife, and the clear, green waters were suddenly 
stained red. The buck gave a wild and convulsive 
spring, and even as Pete caught him by the antler, 
was dead. 

As they pulled away home Tom was very silent. 
He could not get that last backward look of the deer 
out of his mind, and felt as if he had been taking 
part in some cruel and bloody sacrifice. He tried 
to argue the matter out fairly with himself, how- 
ever. He acknowledged that these wild animals 
were the natural food of the frontiersmen who could 
not depend on the butcher’s shops, and who indeed 
would seldom eat meat if they had to pay for it at 
the rate of fifteen or twenty cents a pound. And 
as to the actual killing, was it any worse to slay a 
wild beast than one bred in captivity, and fed oft- 
times, by the hand of the slaughterer ? 

By the time dinner came, however, it must be 
confessed that all Tom’s sensibility had fled, and he 
pitched into the tender venison steak with an ap- 
petite as indomitable as Captain Pete’s. 

In the afternoon the captain had a long and se- 
rious talk with Tom. The frontier boy for the first 
time wanted advice. Up to this point it had all 
been plain sailing. The duties of life had been 
clearly spread before him, and he performed them. 


66 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

with all his might. In fact, until his meeting with 
Tom he had never contemplated any other future 
than that of carrying out his father’s plans, enlarg- 
ing the scope of the fishery, and improving the farm 
on which he had been brought up. Now his hori- 
zon was suddenly widened, and his heart filled 
with longings and ambitions — so insistent and 
strenuous — that he could never be contented again 
in the narrow treadmill of his old life. 

It was in this little fellow’s character to face a 
situation squarely when it confronted him, and that 
was what he was doing now. In spite of Tom’s 
youth, he felt that he was the only one at hand that 
would be in entire sympathy with his new feelings, 
and it was for this reason that he selected him as 
counsellor. 

“Tom,” he said, “the Collector told me that 
I would have $400 in a month for this smuggling 
affair.” 

“Better than that, Pete,” he answered, “there 
were ninty-five pounds of opium in that box.” 

“Well, that much, anyhow. That’s a good deal 
of money, ain’t it, Tom? A fellow could live on 
that four or five years couldn’t he?” 

“Why,” said Tom, turning the matter over in 
his mind, “it’s a goodish lump, but I don’t think it 
would go as far as that. What have you got in 
your head?” 

“Why,” said Pete slowly, and a little shame- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 67 

facedly, “I was thinking I would like to get some 
schooling with it. I never had any, you know, 
and since I was up to Port Townsend with you, 
and got these new clothes — and everything! I 
thought Pd like to get to know something, and 
be more like those other folks I saw there.” 

Tom did not look up for he knew Pete was blush- 
ing, and he had a heart full of sympathy for this 
brave little chap who was so ready to recognize 
his deficiencies, and so prompt to remedy them. 

“I think you are right, Pete,” he said at last, 
“altho’ you mustn’t have the idea that you don’t 
know anything. Why, tho’ I’ve been in school all 
my life, there are lots of things I don’t know as 
well as you. For instance, what a useless bit of 
timber your father would think me if I were you, 
and you me.” 

This unexpected view of matters cheered Pete 
immensely, and he brightened up as he naively 
said: 

“Yes, that’s so, but I want to know the kind of 
things that you — and Grace do.” 

“Grace, oh!” then Tom continued, looking pre- 
ternaturally solemn, but with a smile in his heart, 
“well, you see, we’ve been brought up differently. 
I don’t doubt but that down at bottom, you and I 
and Grace are all made of the same kind of stuff.” 

Somehow this comforted Pete, but he was still 
unsatisfied. 


68 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Well, if we’re the same at the bottom, all I’ve 
got to do is to learn what you know, and we’ll be 
the same at the top, too.” 

Tom laughed outright: 

“Pete,” he said, “you are all right, and I can’t 
see but what you know just as well what you want 
as I can tell you. If you are resolved to spend that 
$400 in getting an education, why don’t you say 
so, and be done with it?” 

“Well, that’s what I’m going to do!” he answered 
with a flushed and resolute countenance. 

“Then what you want is to find out the best way, 
and how you will get the most for your money.” 

“That’s the talk, Tom. That’s what I’m figur- 
ing on. Somehow I don’t want to go to school, be- 
cause if I do, I’ll seem to be such a great big dunce 
among the rest of them.” 

“Yes, Pete, it would be unpleasant. But perhaps 
you could be fixed in some other way. I’ll tell you 
what we’d better do; we’ll wait, and ask my father 
about it.” 

“That’s what I think!” concluded Pete. “You 
see, he’s so kind that I don’t believe he’d mind ad- 
vising me, and there’s no such hurry anyway, for 
I can’t do anything until I get my money, and that 
will not come for a month.” 

“Well, you can talk to him when you take me 
home day after to-morrow,” said Tom, “and I am 
sure he will find some way of doing what you wish.” 

This wound up the conversation for the time, but 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 69 

it was often recurred to while Tom remained on 
Waldron. The idea was no transient one, but had 
taken firm hold on Pete’s mind. Tom, in the mean- 
time, was full of a notion of his own which he did 
not confide to any one, but nursed, and pondered, 
and revolved in his mind, until he became certain 
of its practicability. He was wise enough to keep 
it to himself, however, and not risk a possible disap- 
pointment to Pete by prematurely divulging it. 

Time sped on, and the day soon came for Tom’s 
return to Friday Harbor. Once more the Tyee 
sailed over the sunlit waters with the two boys as 
crew, and landed them safely at Sweeney’s wharf. 

The Major and Mrs. Fisher welcomed the lads, 
and proudly noted the healthy tan on Tom’s cheek. 
Pete, of course, was asked to remain to dinner, and 
as he had plenty of time for the run back, and had 
worn his new suit of clothes in honor of the occa- 
sion, he gladly accepted the invitation. 

Before dinner Tom had an opportunity to talk 
to his parents alone, and he told them of Captain 
Pete’s desire to spend the $400 he had earned, as 
far as it would go, in the attempt to educate himself. 
Both of them had become warmly concerned in the 
little fisherman’s welfare, and they were anxious 
to forward his plans as far as lay in their power. 
Then out popped Tom’s scheme, which he had hid- 
den in his own breast ever since Pete had first 
talked to him on the subject. 

“Father,” said he, “why can’t Pete come with 


70 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

us when we go home? He can sleep with me, and 
eat with us, so it won’t cost him anything for board 
and lodgings, and we can find someone who can 
give him private lessons, and he would learn more, 
and his money would go further than in any other 
way. I am certain he would study hard, and is 
so smart that he would advance as much in six 
months by that method as another boy would in 
a year. What do you think? Can’t it be done?” 

‘That’s a pretty big contract you are letting out 
to me, Tom,” answered the major, looking over 
at his wife, “but I’ll talk it over with your mother 
to-night, and we’ll see what can be done for your 
friend.” 

To tell the truth, they were both considerably 
taken by Tom’s proposition, for they not only felt 
that the companionship was good for their boy, but 
they were touched by the spectacle of the manly 
little chap — whose surroundings and opportunities 
were so inadequate, and whose aspirations were 
so high. Both were also struck by the boy’s ster- 
ling character, and apparent intellectual capacity, 
and in consequence they were much inclined to 
further Tom’s desire to give the captain a chance 
in life such as he could not have were he left to 
his own unaided efforts. 

Tom ran off to join Pete, and the major sat 
quietly thinking, while Mrs. Fisher watched his 
strong features with love and trust in her eyes. 
She felt peculiarly drawn to the fisher boy, and 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 71 

thought there was a spiritual side of his nature 
which if developed in unison with the practical turn 
of his character, would make him grow into a noble 
man. She had confided her thoughts to her hus- 
band, and knew that if he took the matter in hand, 
the captain’s future would be assured so far as out- 
side aid could do it. After a time the major spoke, 
following out the train of reflection in his mind: 

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t do it ! It may seem 
quixotic, but quixotism doesn’t always turn out 
badly, by any means. Mother, you know what I 
told you about that land I bought on Hidalgo 
island? There is going to be a large city there 
some day, and it is ten to one it will start before a 
year is over. I can buy this boy thirty acres along- 
side my own for $300, and it will make him a mod- 
est fortune if it is well handled. Then he can carry 
out his plans, and become a man, Shall I do it?” 

“Tom, you dear fellow!” she exclaimed as she 
kissed him, “will you do that, and look after him? 
I shall be so happy !” 

“Well, if he wants me to, I’ll do it. That will, 
you see, leave him $100 to go ahead with his 
studies, and it’s better for the boy to keep his in- 
dependence. If I’m not greatly mistaken in him, 
he would be the last one to accept charity in the 
way of board and lodging. He has apparently 
been able to earn those necessaries ever since he 
has known how to walk.” 

This concluded the conversation, but Captain 


72 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Pete was kept to dinner, and it was surprising to 
note how his short experience in Port Townsend 
had improved and developed him. It spoke vol- 
umes for Pete’s perceptiveness that he had already 
mastered the use of his knife and fork and napkin, 
so that it would never have been suspected that 
until a week past he had never seen one of the 
latter, and was accustomed to regard a knife as an 
inconvenient kind of shovel, designed for the pur- 
pose of conveying victuals to the mouth. Mrs. 
Fisher watched him with delighted appreciation 
shining from her motherly eyes, and became more 
and more convinced that it was a duty manifestly 
thrust upon her husband and herself, to help a youth 
who was so palpably anxious to help himself. 


CHAPTER EIGHT 


A FTER dinner Major Fisher called Captain Pete 
on the piazza, while his wife detained Tom in 
the parlor. The major drew a chair beside him, 
and motioned Pete to sit down, which the fisher 
boy did in a somewhat embarrassed manner for he 
had an inkling of what was coming. 

“How old are you, my boy?” began the major. 
“Fourteen years, sir.” 

“Tom tells me you want to try and get an educa- 
tion?” 

“Oh, sir !” burst out Pete, “you don’t know how 
much !” He almost choked in his earnestness. 
“Major Fisher,” continued he with an effort, 
“since I’ve known Mrs. Fisher, and you and Tom, 
I’ve felt as if I could not go on catching fish and 
selling them, and living at home. I don’t know 
what has got into me. Altho’ I’ve been contented 
before, I feel now that if I had to stay on Waldron 
island all my life I should drown myself. I want 
to be like Tom, and know things, and have books 
and money, and be well dressed always, and live 
like the people I met in Port Townsend.” 

Poor boy! It was all out now, and he fairly 
sobbed in the vehemence of his feelings. The major 
was also affected, and his keen, kindly, blue eyes 
73 


74 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

glistened as he laid his hand on the boy’s sturdy 
shoulder. 

'There, Pete,” he said soothingly, "never mind. 
Don’t feel badly about it. I think I understand 
what troubles you. You are thinking of your 
father and mother, and feel as if these new desires 
and aspirations are disloyal to them.” 

Pete’s breast heaved again and he nodded to the 
major, unable to speak. 

"Well,” the major went on, "I am sure that none 
of your ambitions are unworthy, and I honor you 
for them.” 

The boy captain straightened up, and caught his 
breath. 

"I am so certain of it that I am going to help you 
all I can to realize your dreams. Furthermore I 
am positive that your father will sympathize 
strongly, and encourage you in your new departure 
instead of feeling that you do not love him. So 
now, my boy, cheer up! Go back home and have 
a confidential talk with your father. Tell him all 
there is in your heart, and you may say to him from 
me that if he is willing I would like to take a hand 
in helping you make a man of yourself. Now go 
and say good-bye to Mrs. Fisher, who by the way, 
Pete, is a very good friend of yours, and then Tom 
and I will walk down to the wharf, and see you 
off.” 

The boy arose, and said: 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 75 

“Major Fisher, I don’t know why you are so 
good to me ! I can never pay you back.” 

“Tschutt! tschutt! yes, you can!” returned the 
major, “fulfill my expectations of you, and I shall be 
a hundred times repaid. Besides, there’s Tom! 
Anything you owe to me in the way of goodwill, 
you may pay to him.” 

“Won’t I? That’s all!” said Pete. 

Then the boy captain went into the parlor, and 
approached Mrs. Fisher and Tom with shining eyes. 

“Well, my dear boy?” asked Mrs. Fisher, in her 
soft voice that always made Pete feel like kneeling 
to her. 

“Please, ma’am,” answered he, “I want to say 
good night to you, and then Tom and the Major 
are going to walk down with me to the boat.” 

The lady arose and putting a hand on either of 
Pete’s shoulders, looked into his steadfast eyes. 
Pete blushed high through the tan on his cheeks, 
but met her gaze bravely. Then she drew him to 
her, and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Good-bye, my little man,” said she, “come and 
see me whenever you can.” 

As the captain sat in the stern sheets of the Tyee, 
and watched the moon mount in the heavens, he 
felt as if ages rolled between him and the Pete 
Graignic of only a few days before. He realized 
that a broad and deep gulf had opened between him 
and his old life. Never more could he lead an ex- 


j6 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

istence that was bounded by the small ambitions 
in which he was formerly contented. When the 
thought of his young brothers and sisters came to 
him — “I will work for all of them,” thought he, 
“and they shall have a chance to become decent, 
too. To become decent! was he already ashamed 
of his old surroundings? Ashamed! ashamed of 
his father and his mother.” A dull red glow 
burned on his cheek as he faced the thought. “No ! 
he was not ashamed of that good father ! and — and 
— his Indian mother. Were not most of the boys 
he knew half-breeds ? And was not the store- 
keeper at Richardson one ? And was he not a good 
man, and respected and liked by all? No! it was 
nothing to be ashamed of if he became a good man. 
That was the great point! and Major Fisher 
thought he would be one, and he knew Mrs. Fisher 
was his friend too; here his heart grew tender. 
And Tom! Tom had trust and confidence in him. 
Then his thoughts wandered off to the Collector, in 
Port Townsend, who had been so good to him. 
And Grace ! what a pretty name, and how it seemed 
to fit her! How bright and soft she was. If he 
got an education, and grew to be like Tom, he 
could live among such people always. And why 
shouldn’t he? he was industrious enough, and had 
made a start ; by and by, perhaps he could make and 
save money, and grow to be a storekeeper, or 
even — Great Heavens ! — the captain of a large 
steamer. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 77 

This last leap of vaulting ambition made Captain 
Pete stop and gasp for a moment, but he finally 
gulped the idea down. By this time, so much had 
he been absorbed, he was already — though he now 
first realized it — within view of the light which his 
father never failed to put where it would serve as 
a beacon to him on his return. “Dear father !" he 
murmured remorsefully as he spilled the wind from 
the sail of the sloop, and went forward to let go the 
anchor. When the boat was safely moored, and 
everything made snug, he hauled up the dingy and 
went ashore. 

It was by this time after ten o'clock, and all the 
fisherman's family but himself had long ago re- 
tired. He led Pete into the kitchen where he had 
kept the fire, and putting some warm food on the 
table, told him to eat. Pete was conscious that his 
father's face and manner were more than ordinarily 
grave, though his address was full of fatherly 
tenderness. As he ate, the two glanced at each 
other furtively. The parent on his part, was aware 
that there was something new in the countenance 
of his son, but he sat quietly, and said nothing until 
the lad had finished his meal. Then he spoke : 

“Pull your chair by ze fire, my son. I want to 
have a talk wiz you, if you are not too tired." 

“No, sir," answered Pete, as he placed himself 
opposite his father. 

“My boy," continued the fisherman, “ze last week 
has been a lucky one for us. You, in particular, 


78 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

have earned a large sum. You have also seen 
somezing of a side of life zat is new to you, and 
you have conducted yourself very well among ze 
incidents you have passed zro’. But have you 
zought at all how you are going to use this large 
sum ?” 

“That’s just what I want to tell you about, Dad,” 
replied Pete, seizing his opportunity by the fore- 
lock. His father smiled gravely, and Pete hurried 
on: “Pm afraid you’ll think I’m foolish, and per- 
haps selfish sir, but I want to spend all that money 
on myself, if you are willing and don’t need it.” 

“No, I don’t need it. But what do you want 
to do wiz it, my son?” 

“I want to get an education, sir ! Please, please 
don’t think I am ungrateful, or that I don’t love you 
and mother, and all, but I feel as if I had a chance to 
get up in the world, and live like — like — well, more 
like Major Fisher, and the Port Townsend people 
— and less like our neighbors.” 

“And ourselves — ?” added his parent, half 
questioningly. 

“No! no!” interrupted the boy, “I don’t mean 
that, father, and that has been my trouble ever 
since I first thought of it — the fear that you would 
believe that I wasn’t grateful to you, and wanted 
to get away, and better myself after you have done 
so much for me. Rather than have you think that 
I’ll give the whole thing up !” 

“Hold on, my boy, don’t go so fast. I don’t 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 79 

zink I should have said zat. At any rate, I did not 
mean it, and am sorry. I am not surprised zat 
now you have seen anozer and more attractive 
side of life you should reach out toward it. I 
zought it possible you would feel this way, and I 
am glad. My son, I hope and zink I should have 
wanted to do as you wish when I was your age if 
I had had ze chance, but it never came, and so I 
have always been a poor laboring man. If I had 
n education I feel that I could have done better zings 
in my life. But, my boy, I have always been honest 
and respectable, and as far as I know, I have 
done no man a wrong. Zat is somezing for you 
to start wiz, and if you climb higher on the ladder 
than I have done, I shall watch you with sympazy. 
Another word I must say to you — your mozer is an 
Indian woman, and very often in this country, the 
offspring of a white man and an Indian woman is 
looked down upon. But your mother was ze 
daughter of a chief, and is a good, true woman who 
would shed ze last drop of her heart's blood for her 
husband or her children. Never let your success 
make you ashamed of her." 

Captain Pete was sobbing by this time, and he 
felt that he didn't care whether he ever became rich 
or respectable — his heart was so tender over his 
father and mother. Something of this he managed 
to falter out, and tried to make his parent com- 
prehend that in his ambitious projects his success 
would involve lifting the whole family to the higher 


80 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

plane he anticipated reaching. It is probable the 
sagacious old fisherman knew the boy better than 
the boy did himself; at any rate, he put his arm 
around him, and talked soothingly until Pete re- 
gained his self-possession. They sat long into the 
night, and when they finally retired, it was all ar- 
ranged that Pete should have his chance. 

The happy lad saw rosy-hued visions in his 
dreams that night, but his father lay awake long, 
and sighed from time to time. 

Shortly after Captain Pete’s return home it be- 
came necessary for Mr. Graignic to pay a visit to 
Victoria for the purpose of buying groceries etc., 
for household consumption. So one morning he 
and Pete started in the Tyee. The captain was 
rigged out in the toggery he had purchased in Port 
Townsend, and even his father made concessions 
in honor of the occasion, in that he wore a coat 
and vest, articles of apparel that were entirely ig- 
nored in the daily life of the hardy pioneer. 

A brisk wind from the north filled the great 
sail of the Tyee, and she made a rapid trip down 
past Roche Harbor on San Juan, where the mam- 
moth lime kilns are, and finally across the straits 
of De Haro, and into the Harbor of Victoria. It 
was Pete’s first visit here, and he was in a state 
of eager anticipation as his father told him that 
the English city on Vancouver island was seven 
or eight times as large in population as Port Town- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 81 

send. It was a degree of magnitude which it 
puzzled his mind to grasp. 

As they came up to the city Pete observed near 
the steamboat dock a number of beautiful little 
schooners of from fifty to seventy-five tons burden, 
lying at anchor. They were sealers, Mr. Graignic 
told his son, and after having asked permission 
from a man on board of one of them, they moored 
the Tyee to it, and went ashore in the dingy. 

The first stop they made was at a great, gloomy 
looking warehouse. It had only one narrow en- 
trance, but over the door was a small inscription 
in gold letters reading: 

THE HUDSON BAY COMPANY 

It was in fact the store and supply depot of that 
powerful corporation which has, since the first 
settlement of North America, controlled the trade 
with the Indians, and made enormous profits by 
practically possessing a monopoly in the business 
of purchasing furs, and the other products of the 
vast country to the northward, known as British 
North America. It has had from the first, forts, 
and supply and trading-stations dotted over the 
whole territory, manned by employees who thus 
gathered up the trade, and enabled the Company 
to defy competitors. 

Although in pursuance of a fixed policy, very un- 
pretentious, this huge store building had a massive 
and English appearance, and it impressed and in- 


82 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

terested Pete from the start. It seemed to contain 
everything that could be imagined, and in point 
of fact the stock is the largest and most varied 
that can be brought together in one building. It 
not only supplies the meager wants of the savages 
with whom so much profitable traffic is done, but 
it fits out its own employees who are scattered, to 
the number of thousands, through the northwest. 
Its business extends from the cities, where the 
principal general stores are operated, to the wildest 
recesses of Assiniboine and Saskatchewan, where 
the factors, in log buildings stockaded and garri- 
soned, barter powder, leaden bullets, and gimcracks 
to the wild red men, and the scarcely less rude white 
trappers and hunters. All these establishments 
draw their supplies from the head depots in Win- 
nipeg and Victoria. 

Victoria itself is a Hudson’s Bay settlement, and 
fifty years ago it only contained the fort and station 
of the Company. Since then it has grown to be a 
beautiful English city of 80,000 inhabitants. 

While Mr. Graignic was making his purchases 
a stalwart, acute looking man stepped up to him, 
and said: 

“If I am not mistaken your name is Graignic, 
isn’t it? Don’t you live on Waldron island, and 
ain’t you the owner of the sloop Tyee?” 

“Yes, sir, but I don’t know you,” answered the 
fisherman. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 83 

The stranger smiled as he drew the elder Graig- 
nic a little aside and said: 

“No, you wouldn’t know me, and I didn’t know 
you, rightly, but I spotted you because I saw the 
sloop tied up to that sealer on the Arm. But that’s 
Captain Pete with you, ain’t it ?” 

As Mr. Graignic nodded, looking still more puz- 
zled, he continued: 

“My name is Kennedy, and I guess there is no 
great harm in telling you that I belong to the 
United States revenue force, but am stationed here 
on British territory on secret duty. Of course I 
have heard all about the capture of Bill Kelley, and 
the Nonesuch, with the Chinamen, and the opium, 
so when I saw Tyee painted on your boat’s bow, I 
naturally concluded that you were in Victoria. And 
when I saw you and Captain Pete, as I said, I 
spotted you.” 

Kennedy laughed genially, evidently pleased at 
this proof of his own perspicacity. He was a 
splendid looking fellow, with a good-natured ex- 
pression despite a long and somewhat heavy jaw 
which indicated firmness and possible obstinacy. 
The minute Mr. Graignic heard the name he recog- 
nized the man. Indeed it would have been sur- 
prising if he had not, for Captain Kennedy’s name 
was famous at that time in the northwest. He had 
made many important captures, and if there was 
any peculiarly desperate service to be performed 


84 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

which needed the exercise of judgment and indom- 
itable nerve, he was certain to be called on — pro- 
vided he had not already volunteered. 

'‘'Well/’ said Kennedy, “I want to be introduced 
to Captain Pete. That boy is all right, and the 
kind of chap I would like to have around when 
Pm in trouble.” 

Mr. Graignic beckoned Pete, and introduced him 
to the revenue man, and the two seemed to take an 
instant liking to one another. Kennedy watched 
the little fellow as if he were taking his measure, 
and the lad was greatly flattered by being noticed 
by a man he had always looked up to as a hero. 

“Well, Pete,” said Kennedy shortly, “what do 
you say if I take you up, and show you the Chinese 
colony ?” 

Pete’s eyes fairly stuck out with eagerness, and 
he answered: 

“Oh! I should like to ever so much! Dad, can I 
go with Captain Kennedy?” 

“I guess so,” replied the fisherman. “Captain 
Kennedy, you’ll see that he gets on the sloop in 
time for supper; and remember he’s nothing but a 
country lad, and might get into mischief if left 
alone.” 

“I’ll bring him aboard, Mr. Graignic, but if you 
will permit, he shall take supper with me to-night.” 

“All right. Good-bye, Pete,” said his father, 
moving away. 


CHAPTER NINE 


pETE and his new friend passed out of the build- 
1 ing, and going through several narrow courts 
and alleys that would have reminded them of por- 
tions of London, had they ever been there, they 
emerged on Post street, which is the main business 
thoroughfare of Victoria. 

It is not so wide as similar streets in Seattle or 
Tacoma, but the buildings were very solid and sub- 
stantial, and mainly constructed of stone. The 
stores appeared to be thriving and to have many 
customers although the show windows were not 
so large, nor the displays in them so imposing as 
Pete had noticed in Port Townsend; yet there was 
a far greater throng of people in the streets, and 
some of them to Pete’s unaccustomed eyes looked 
very foreign. Many of the men wore knicker- 
bockers or breeches, and as this was an entirely 
unknown fashion to him, Pete, like most of us who 
see something new, was rather inclined to think it 
ridiculous. In fact, he confided this view of the 
matter with an amused chuckle to Captain Kennedy, 
who rather took him aback by replying good- 
naturedly : 

“ You’re a greenhorn, Pete. Those knicker- 
bockers are a hundred times more comfortable than 

85 


86 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

trousers, and I wish it was the fashion for Ameri- 
cans to wear them. You’d see me in them all the 
time. But here we come to the pigtails P 

As he spoke he turned into a side street, and 
Pete immediately forgot all about breeches and 
everything else civilized, for that turn had brought 
them into a new world. The street was narrower 
still than the one they had left, and was lined with 
tall, dingy, red brick buildings. The very atmos- 
phere was different, and laden thick with all sorts 
of oriental odors, many of them by no means grate- 
ful to the nostrils of the fisher boy, who had always 
been accustomed to the fresh sea breeze and pure 
ozone of Waldron island. He sniffed and gasped 
a little, but was so interested in the queer sights 
and sounds that he quickly forgot the insult to his 
nose in the sensations that assailed his eyes and 
ears. 

In the first place, the street swarmed like a bee 
hive with Mongolians in their native costumes, and 
all seemed to be talking at once in that queer, mo- 
notonous, and yet vivacious tone characteristic of 
the lower class Chinaman or coolie. Each build- 
ing too, appeared to be a store, at least on the 
ground floor, and the most miscellaneous collection 
of puzzling articles that Pete had ever seen were 
exposed for sale. The vegetable store or green 
grocer’s had hardly a vegetable on view that the boy 
was familiar with ; strange bulbous tubers, dropsical 
green things, stalks of an unknown kind, all differ- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 87 

ent from the honest potatoes, turnips, celery, etc., 
that he had known hitherto. At the meat shop next 
door there were weird delicacies that were to Pete 
far more interesting than appetizing. Then came 
what Germans would call a delicatessen shop, al- 
though the boy did not know the Chinese for it, 
and he peered through the dirty window panes with 
starting eyeballs at the messes displayed. Here 
were shark fins — he recognized this dainty — but 
what was that alongside that resembled a dirty, 
half dry piece of glue in the shape of a pouch? 
Captain Kennedy told him it was the nest of a 
swallow that the Chinese prize highly as an article 
of diet. Then he saw some small skinned carcasses 
on a platter, displayed very much as plucked quails 
are in an American restaurant window. These he 
shrewdly suspected to be rats, and no doubt he was 
right. There were many more inexplicable things 
in sight that Pete could not make head or tail of, 
but he reflected, and confided the thought to Cap- 
tain Kennedy, that if he were famishing at sea in 
an open boat, he would hesitate to eat any of the 
viands exposed here for sale. Kennedy, it ap- 
peared, quite agreed with him, and they passed on. 

The tea stores were more attractive, and they 
entered one. The air of the room was warm, and 
a peculiar fragrance struck Pete as very strange, 
and unlike anything he had ever smelt before. He 
was inclined to attribute it to rare spices, or some- 
thing of that sort, but the officer called his atten- 


88 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

tion to a fat Celestial sitting behind the counter 
smoking a long stemmed pipe with a thick bowl that 
had a little hole as big as a pea in the center. It 
was the smoke from this that made the smell, and 
what was being smoked was opium instead of to- 
bacco. This man was evidently the proprietor, for 
a clerk sat nearby making queer inscriptions with 
a brush in a blank book. Every moment he would 
turn to a machine resembling a harp frame with 
wooden buttons strung on the wires. He would 
rattle the buttons up and down on the wires like 
mad with his lithe yellow fingers, and then paint 
an entry in the book with his brush, so Pete took 
the harp to be a calculating machine, and he was 
right, for Kennedy told him so. 

While they stood at one end of the counter, par- 
tially out of sight of the door, it suddenly opened, 
and a man came hastily in. Pete could not see the 
newcomer from where he stood, but his attention 
was aroused by observing an extraordinary gleam 
of intelligence shoot athwart what had been a min- 
ute before the oily and impassive features of the 
proprietor of the establishment. Quickly nodding 
towards Kennedy and Pete, he held up his hand 
palm outwards to the man who had entered. This 
produced a rapid and marked change in the de- 
meanor of that individual, who Pete could now see, 
was a wiry man of about thirty years of age dressed 
in the rough clothing of a longshoreman. Captain 
Pete, acting on instinct, looked as unconcerned as 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 89 

possible, and the Celestial did not remark that he 
had seen the by-play, which Kennedy had not ob- 
served. But now, as the latter saw the man who 
had entered, he gave a slight start, and nudged 
Pete as though to attract his attention in that di- 
rection. Then he came carelessly into the center 
of the room, and said: 

“Hello, Mike! What are you doing in Victoria? 
I thought you were home on Guemes island. Any- 
thing on hand, old man?” 

Mike scowled involuntarily at Kennedy, and 
smiled sourly as he answered: 

“You’re always kidding, Cap. You know I’m 
going straight now!” 

“Well, that’s a good tack to keep on,” said the 
officer good-humoredly, adding “come on, Captain 
Pete.” 

Mike, who had turned partly away from Ken- 
nedy’s keen scrutiny, now whipped suddenly around, 
and gazed at Pete: 

“Say, Cap!” exclaimed he, “is that the blasted 
kid that put the revenue men on Bill?” 

“ Yes,” replied Kennedy, shortly, while Pete 
shrank back a little, beginning to have an idea that 
he understood the situation, “and” continued the 
revenue officer, “you’d better keep a civil tongue in 
your head, Mike, for this boy has plenty of friends, 
and I’m one of them.” 

“Oh!” said Mike, “I don’t mean nothing, Cap. 
The kid’s all right, and up to snuff. I s’pose you 


90 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

must have made right smart out of that job, sonny? 
Oh ! you’re cute, and a good plucked one, and I don’t 
bear you no malice, for Bill Kelley and me hasn’t 
been friends this six months back. Shake hands, 
Captain Pete.” 

He held out a grimy paw, but Pete was no idiot, 
and he looked at the false smile of the man, and 
his gleaming, spiteful eye, and moved a little closer 
to Kennedy without saying a word. 

“Never mind handshaking,” said the officer, “and 
Mike, see here!” He made a step forward, and 
placed a hand on the fellow’s shoulder. “I know 
you, and you know me. Don’t let me catch you in 
any of your tricks with this boy, or I’ll hunt you 
up, and have a reckoning; and that won’t suit 
your book very well. So mind your eye, and re- 
member !” 

As Mike stood trembling like a wild animal which 
would like to make a spring and tear down his 
enemy, but is restrained by fear, Kennedy and Pete 
passed into the street. 

“I think I’ve seen about enough of the Chinese 
quarter,” remarked Pete dryly, “let’s go back to 
Post street.” 

Kennedy laughed, and replied : 

“All right, Pete. I suppose you are rather cu- 
rious to know who that was, ain’t you?” 

“Some friend of Bill Kelley’s, I reckon.” 

“Right, my boy. That was Mike McGovern, 
Kelley’s side partner, and almost as slick and mean 


9i 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

as Bill himself, but without half his pluck or reck- 
lessness. Had Bill been in his place, there would 
have been a shindy, for he would have jumped me 
sure. That was all moonshine, you know, about 
their not being friendly. They made a run together 
not three months ago, and I came near collaring 
both of them, tho’ they didn’t know it. I wonder 
what Mike was doing in Lee Sing’s ?” 

“Is that the name of the fat Chinaman who sat 
behind the counter ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I guess they had some business together 
they didn’t want you to know, for I saw Lee Sing 
making signs to Mike that we were there.” 

“Wha-a-t!” ejaculated Kennedy. “Pete, you’re 
a jewel ! You’ve wiped my eye for me. Why, Lee 
must be putting up a job — either dope, or running 
coolies across — and I never scented it. Of course 
Mike is in it. By Jove !” here he scratched his head 
meditatively, “I wonder how he got here !” then he 
looked at his watch. “Pete, it’s too early for sup- 
per yet, let’s take a walk along the water front, 
and keep those sharp eyes of yours peeled for any 
kind of a craft that a smuggler would be apt to 
use in running from here across the Sound.” 

Captain Kennedy had no notion that anything 
his own keen and practiced scrutiny overlooked 
would be apt to attract the attention of the little 
fisher boy, and he had made the observation 
more in good-humored raillery than in any other 


9 2 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

spirit. So they went down to the water front 
again, and followed it along. Pete was deeply 
interested in the different kind of craft, both great 
and small, and scanned their lines and rigs with a 
knowing eye, occasionally making remarks in re- 
gard to them that astonished the revenue man by 
their aptness and knowledge. 

They walked some distance without coming 
across any craft Kennedy thought suspicious, 
and he, in fact was just about to turn back, when 
they came to a bunch of Siwash or Indian canoes 
moored close in shore. A Klootchman sat in one 
evidently on guard, and all the canoes were piled up 
indiscriminately with the various baggage of the 
nomads, consisting of camp equipage, etc., loosely 
covered with mats. Kennedy was about to turn 
back, as has been said, when Pete’s quick eye sin- 
gled out one of the canoes, and noticed that it was 
not only a better and trimmer craft than the rest, 
but that it was rigged out with two pair of patent 
row locks. Now, all the other canoes, if fitted for 
oars, had common wooden thole pins driven into 
the gunwales. He took another look, and saw that 
the canoe was dressed on the sides and bow with a 
smoothing plane, and not simply water worn, as 
usual. Just then the stern swung towards him, and 
to his surprise he saw brass rudder pintles on her.* 
He pulled Kennedy by the sleeve : 

"What is it, Pete?” asked he. 

* Plates arranged to hold the hooks made fast to a rudder. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 93 

“Suppose we look closer at that canoe with the 
rudder pintles ?” 

Captain Kennedy gave one glance, and ejac- 
ulated : 

“By the lip of the Holy Crocodile !” 

He stepped down to the water, and picking up a 
stick, reached over to the suspected craft, and 
hauled it in to him. He raised the matting that lay 
loosely in the stern sheets, and there was a sheet 
iron rudder and two pair of spoon oars made of 
spruce, well leathered on the looms. Kennedy 
turned to Pete with a comical expression of amaze- 
ment on his sunburnt phiz, and said: 

“Well, you’ve done it again! twice hand-running! 
Of course that’s no Siwash rig! If it were that 
Klootchman would have screamed her lungs out at 
us by this time.” 

“Look!” exclaimed Pete, “she’s greased to make 
her go soft and easy.” 

Kennedy looked, and sure enough a little oily film 
covered the surface of the water around the suspi- 
cious craft. 

“True as you live!” he agreed. Then very sol- 
emnly: “Pete, as sure as shooting that canoe was 
fixed up for smuggling, and the owner was mighty 
cute to mix her up among these genuine Siwash 
craft To tell the truth, it would have fooled any 
of the revenue men, and it was mighty lucky I 
brought you along. Now I promise you that if 
anything comes out of this job, you stand in on the 


94 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

cash. But let's get away from here. If this canoe 
belongs to Mike McGovern, as I suspect, some of 
his gang'll be apt to be around." 

They turned into the nearest street leading to 
the interior of the city, and Pete had to stretch his 
legs to keep up with the captain's long strides. 
The latter, who seemed to know Victoria well, dived 
thro' alleys, and passed thro’ buildings which 
brought them out on other streets, and in a very few 
minutes he stepped into a hall way, and saying: 
“Come in" passed into an office where there were 
several men sitting leisurely. Kennedy went into 
a back room which was empty. 

“Mr. Harker," he called, “please come here a 
moment." 

One of the men came from the front office, and 
asked : 

“What is it, Cap?" 

“Shut the door, and sit down." 

Harker did so, looking at Pete in some surprise. 

“This is Pete Graignic, Mr. Harker, who helped 
Major Fisher capture Bill Kelley," continued he, 
“and he has done me a good turn this afternoon." 

“How are you, Pete? Glad to know you," said 
Mr. Harker, shaking hands with the boy. Then 
turning eagerly to Kennedy again, he added : 
“What is it, Cap? A run?" 

Kennedy related the day's adventures from the 
meeting of Mike McGovern in Lee Sing’s, to the 
finding of the canoe. 


95 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Well,” said Harker, “that settles it. I always 
mistrusted Lee, tho’ he has managed to throw dirt 
in our eyes. I’ll bet he has the dope put up on his 
premises now, ready for Mike to take. Of course 
they wouldn’t run coolies across in that boat.” 

“No,” agreed Kennedy, “they couldn’t take 
enough at a time to make it pay. It’s dope they’re 
working on.” 

“Well,” resumed Harker, “I suppose the first 
thing to do is to send a cipher dispatch to the Col- 
lector in Port Townsend, and let him notify the 
boys everywhere to be on the lookout.” 

“Yes,” answered Kennedy, “and you’d better 
send Jimmy to pipe off the canoe, and see if any- 
body comes down. If they make the run to-night 
they won’t start before the tide turns, and that’s 
about one o’clock. We can’t do anything with 
them, of course, until they get off British territory. 
Now I’m going to take Pete to the Poodle Dog to 
supper, and will be back in an hour. That will 
make it, say, seven o’clock. You look after things, 
send off Jimmy, and post the Collector. If you 
want me, call me up on the ’phone. Come along, 
Pete.” 

And off they went, Pete vaguely wondering if it 
were a Chinese place they were going to, and if the 
meal would consist of poodle dogs. 


CHAPTER TEN 


T HE Poodle Dog was not as Pete had feared, 
a restaurant where Mongolian delicacies were 
served to the guests, but the best public eating 
house in Victoria, and modelled after the famous 
one of the same name in San Francisco in the days 
of the Argonauts. It was a spacious room occupy- 
ing the whole ground floor of a massive building 
on Post street. A table traversed the middle of 
the apartment, and: smaller ones were arranged 
along one wall, each garnished with snowy napery 
and cruet stand. On the other side was a series of 
wooden boxes or stalls — each large enough to ac- 
commodate a table and four chairs. Here all those 
patrons who desired privacy, or affected seclusion, 
could sit in comparative loneliness. These boxes 
were especially favored by the sporting class, such 
as bartenders, gamblers, etc., who largely fre- 
quented the place. 

Kennedy and Pete paused a moment at the 
counter, behind which the cashier — a young woman 
with blonde hair, artless blue eyes, and very red 
cheeks — presided. She was instructed to call Cap- 
tain Kennedy at once if a message came for him 
over the ’phone. Then they went to one of the 
96 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 97 

boxes, and passing the bill of fare to Pete, the 
officer said : 

“Now, Pete, order your dinner, and make it a 
good one.” 

Captain Pete looked down at the menu, which 
by the way, was the first he had ever seen, and was 
so bewildered by the number and queer names of 
the dishes, that he despaired of picking out any- 
thing that he recognized, or knew about. At last 
he came to something familiar, pork and beans, and 
he determined to choose that, for then at any rate, 
he would know what he was eating. When Ken- 
nedy looked up from his own card, which he had 
been studying with earnestness, and said : 

“Well, Pete, what are you going to eat?” 

He answered promptly: 

“Pork and beans, and ice cream, I guess.” 

The “I guess” was thrust in rather doubtfully, 
for he was not quite certain of the propriety of 
his combination. Kennedy laughed outright, but 
was quick-witted enough to perceive the boy's 
quandary, and immediately repressed his merriment 
as he responded : 

“I ought to have recollected you are not used 
to these things. Let me order for both of us, and 
I think we'll find something better than pork and 
beans.” 

Thereupon he called a waiter, and gave him an 
order in which tenderloin steak, broiled ham, 


g8 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

potatoes hashed in cream, and other substantiate 
figured to a degree that made Pete's mouth water. 
He was hungry — and congratulated himself that 
he had not clung to the baked pork and beans, a 
dish that he ate with tolerable frequency at home. 
Nor was he disappointed when the dinner was put 
upon the table. Everything was just as good as it 
had sounded, and when they wound up with 
whortleberry pie and ice cream his little stomach 
was drawn as tight as the head of a drum. He 
thought, as Kennedy paid the bill, and gave “two 
bits" to the waiter, that it must be a heavenly exist- 
ence where one could eat such food every day. 

“Now for business," remarked Kennedy, as he 
lit his briarwood pipe, and they stepped into the 
street. “Pete, we've got to make a plan to catch 
the fellows who own that fancy canoe, and as you 
are the one who was smart enough to put us on to 
it, I propose that you stay right with it until we 
nab them. You shall have your share of both 
glory and the prize money — if there is any." 

“I should like it very much, Captain Kennedy, 
but I'll have to ask my father, and I ought to be 
back on the Tyee now, I suppose." 

“I'll fix that, Pete. I'll send a man from the 
office down to the boat, and ask your father to come 
up." 

A man was despatched with a note as soon as 
they reached the office. In the meantime Mr. 


99 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Harker joined them as they sat in the inner room. 

“I have looked after everything, Cap,” said he, 
“and now I guess we’d better talk it over, and see 
what is to be done next. I’ve sent a man to hang 
around Lee Sing’s, and try and pick up something 
there, but that old Celestial is so sharp that I don’t 
expect much from that end of the business. Jimmy 
is stowed away down by the canoe, and he will let 
us know in time if there is any move. Now what 
can we do in case they make a start to-night ?” 

“That’s what we’ve got to settle, and as Pete is 
in the job already, I move we tell his father all 
about it. He’s got a good head, is a sailor, and 
knows the San Juan Archipelago as well as I do 
Post street.” 

“That’s all right,” agreed Harker. 

“And,” exclaimed Kennedy, “here’s Graignic in 
the nick of time !” 

When Mr. Harker had been introduced, the 
afternoon happenings were related to the fisher- 
man, to his manifest exultation in this new sample 
of Captain Pete’s quality. 

“Now,” concluded Kennedy, “we are inclined to 
believe those chaps will start to-night about the 
turn of the tide with a considerable amount of 
opium. We want to catch them, and collar the 
dope, as soon as they get on American soil. And 
how we are going to do it is the question before 
the house.” 


IOO 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Yes,” said Harker, “we can't dog them close 
enough to keep them in sight without their' seeing 
us.” 

“And — ” cut in Kennedy, “that canoe is fit to go 
eight miles an hour anyway.” 

“Yes,” rejoined Harker, “they can cross the 
straits and get among the islands in two hours and 
a half. That will bring it to three o’clock in the 
morning, and unluckily it isn’t daylight until after 
four. It’s a deuce of a puzzle!” he concluded, 
scratching his head to dig out a solution of the 
difficulty. For a moment the three men sat think- 
ing deeply. Then Pete arose, and said: 

“Can I go out, Dad?” 

“Where do you want to go ?” 

“Just down to the wharf, for a minute.” 

Kennedy had been watching Pete, and he now 
arose and said: 

“All right, come along Pete. I’ll go with you 
myself.” 

They went out, and turning down the next street, 
were soon on the water front near where the Tyee 
was tied up. 

“Now, Pete,” said the revenue man, who had 
been silent during the short walk. “What is your 
idea ? Out with it !” 

“Yes, sir,” answered the boy rather shame- 
facedly, for he was by no means certain he had any 
right to have ideas when his elders hadn’t any. 
“But first let me look, sir,” then he muttered, 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound ioi 

half to himself, “wind west by south, and blowing 
fresh; moon in the first quarter. What time did 
you say the tide serves, sir?” 

“After midnight, but I’ll look it up, and tell you 
exactly as soon as we get back to the office. Now, 
what the deuce have you got in your head ?” 

Kennedy was nearly dancing with impatience 
and curiosity. Since the quick-wittedness the boy 
had displayed in the afternoon, he had formed a 
good opinion of his ability, and easily guessed that 
Pete had conceived a scheme of some kind when 
he wanted to leave the office. 

“Well sir,” said Pete, still somewhat afraid that 
he was putting himself too much forward. “I 
thought perhaps if the wind was right, it would be 
a good notion for a boat with some men in, to go 
over near the San Juan shore before the canoe 
makes a start.” 

“Well, what then?” 

“Why, sir, a man could go out from here in a 
rowboat about five or six miles and spot the canoe 
as it came along without being discovered. It 
could even follow her perhaps, at least far enough 
to signal the other boat — which way the smugglers 
were heading. The canoe would have to go 
around either the north or south end of San Juan, 
and if the men in the revenue boat over there al- 
ready knew which it would be, they'd be almost 
sure to catch them.” 

“That's the right idea,” said the officer with a 


102 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

great slap on Pete’s shoulder. “Here’s what we’ll 
do! We’ll have two boats go over — one to the 
north, and one to the south. You and me, and 
your father in one of them, and Harker and a 
couple of men in the other. And somebody can 
spot the canoe too, just as you say, and give us 
warning. One rocket north — two south !” 

“That’s first rate,” answered Pete, now at his 
ease since Kennedy had taken the direction of 
matters. “We can go over in the Tyee.” 

“Of course we can. Pete, you ought to wear 
revenue clothes yourself ! Now let’s go back to the 
office, and tell Harker and your father.” 

Kennedy quickly laid the plan before the other 
two, and it was eagerly accepted. 

“But suppose they shouldn’t make the run to- 
night?” suggested Harker. 

“I think ze smugglers will be apt to go to-night 
on account of the tide,” said the fisherman. “If 
zey start on the tide to-morrow night they won’t 
reach the islands ’til daylight and zat wouldn’t 
suit.” 

“That’s so!” exclaimed the others, and Harker 
added : 

“Well, now we’ve got to get a move on.” 

“Plenty of time, sir, I zink,” observed Mr. 
Graignic. “Pete tells me ze breeze is fair and 
likely to hold. The Tyee can make San Juan from 
here in zree hours easy, and it’s not nine o’clock 
yet. We don’t need to start for two hours, sir.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 103 

“Well, anyhow,” returned Harker, “I’ve got to 
see that our cat boat is in readiness, pick out my 
two men, and arrange about the rowboat which is 
to do the sneak act on the canoe. Fll be back 
directly.” 

“By the way, Mr. Graignic,” asked Captain 
Kennedy, “are you armed? These smugglers are 
apt to cut up a bit rough when they are cornered, 
and it is best to be prepared for trouble.” 

“I have a large bore Winchester rifle aboard ze 
boat, and plenty of cartridges. Zat will do me, 
sir. Pete has no firearms.” 

“Well, look here, Pete, I’m going to make you a 
present.” He went into a closet, and returned 
balancing an ivory-stocked revolver in his hand. 
“Here is an army Colt of 38 calibre. I had it re- 
stocked, re-bored and re-sighted to suit myself, and 
it is as good a gun as there is in the Northwest. 
It’ll get your man if he’s on the other side of a 
telegraph pole, and you have to shoot thro’ it. 
Throw it in the rain barrel, and leave it there three 
months, and when you take it out, it won’t miss 
fire. I want you to take it, and learn to use it as 
soon as you can. It’s a handy thing to have at 
times in this country, especially to a fellow that 
smugglers have no more reason to like than they 
have you.” 

Pete was overcome with gratitude, and the tears 
stood in his eyes as he stammered : 

“Is that splendid gun really for me?” 


104 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“You bet! and here is the belt, and some cart- 
ridges to go with it,” returned Kennedy. 

Pete buckled the belt around him, and placed the 
gun in it, too proud and happy to be able to utter 
a word. At ten o’clock Harker returned, and re- 
ported all ready for a start, and shortly after a 
funny-looking, roughly-dressed little man appeared 
at the door. 

“Come in, Jimmy! What’s the news?” roared 
Kennedy and Harker together. 

Jimmy was the man who had been sent out to 
watch the suspected canoe. He was a tiny Scots- 
man, barely weighing a hundred pounds, but sur- 
prisingly wiry and muscular, and possessing the 
indomitable spirit of Nanty Ewart, as more than 
one unfortunate person had found out who had 
been tempted by his size to impose on him. He was 
connected in a humble capacity with the secret 
service of the United States Revenue Department, 
and was loyal as a bull dog, and brave as a lion. 
He said : 

“Eh, sirs, yon’s a bad crew that canoe has got at 
all. Twa thondering rascals, ane o’ ’em Mike 
MacGover-r-n, an’ tae ither Three-finger-r-ed Bill, 
his chum.” 

“You’re right, Jimmy, they’re a bad lot. But 
what did they do ?” 

“Aweel, sirs, they jist cam’ doon, an’ took the 
canoe over to Whitlow’s mill, an’ there it lies amang 
the boom sticks as snug as a red deer in the bracken. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 105 

Then Three-finger-r-ed Bill went away, an’ Mike 
staid on i’ the canoe. An’ I cam’ to tell it tae ye.” 

“That settles it !” exclaimed Kennedy, taking 
command. “They’re going to make the run to-night. 
Go back, Jimmy, and watch for Bill’s return. 
He’ll come back with the dope. Now then, Harker, 
it’s eleven o’clock, we’d better start. Mr. Graignic 
and Pete with me in the Tyee, and you and your 
gang in the cat boat. As soon as the dope is put in 
the canoe, Jimmy and Ned start in the rowboat, 
and get out into the offing to wait for the canoe. 
When they see her, let them follow on cautiously. 
Have they got a pair of strong night glasses? 
Good. Then when they see the canoe begin to bear 
either north or south, let them fall back a mile or 
so, and send up the rockets. Mike and Bill won’t 
know what it means, but it will hurry them up. 
Whichever of our parties is the lucky one, Harker, 
will have to keep them in sight until day, and then 
run them down.” 

“All understood,” said Harker, “I’ll go, and tell 
Ned, and we’ll start.” 

“Well, good luck!” concluded Kennedy. “We’ll 
go down to the Tyee. You get twenty dollars for 
the use of your boat to-night, Mr. Graignic.” 

“It goes to Pete,” said the fisherman. “He 
picked up this job, and gets the benefit.” 

“Jupiter!” laughed Kennedy, “at this rate you’ll 
bankrupt the National Treasury, Pete.” 

They got quietly on board the Tyee, and cast off 


106 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

the mooring line. The fisherman took the helm, 
Pete sprang forward, cast loose the gasket, and 
up went the sail. 

“Zat’ll do,” said Pete’s father, in his sailor-like 
voice, calm and full of authority. “Make fast ze 
halliards ! Haul in your sheet, Pete. So ! Belay. 
Loose ze mains’l, Pete. Stand by ze zroat hal- 
liards, Captain Kennedy. Hoist away! That will 
do, zroat. Another pull on ze peak, Pete. Assez, 
peak.” 

Then he eased out on the boom tackle, and in a 
second the sail caught the breeze, and away the 
sloop swept as silently and swiftly as a cloud. 
Pete put all in order forward, and then joined Cap- 
tain Kennedy and his father in the cock pit. It 
was a rather cloudy night, and the new moon was 
just showing one horn of its silver crescent above 
a dark bank of vapor that lay along the edge of the 
horizon. As the Tyee passed the head of the har- 
bor, and came into the open channel, the advent- 
urers found the wind was freshening, and Mr. 
Graignic said : 

“If I know anyzing about Puget Sound weazer, 
it’s going to blow a good bit stiffer before morning, 
and in two hours zere will be a sea running zat will 
bozer zat canoe considerable, and keep her from 
making very good time. Pete, I guess you’d 
better put a reef in the mains’l. We’ll ride easier, 
and zere’s no hurry.” 

“It’s ii 130,” said Kennedy, looking at his watch 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 107 

by the red glow of the pipe he held fast between 
his teeth. “Mike and Bill will start by midnight” 

“Zafs all right,” returned the fisherman, “by ze 
time zey are where we are now, we’ll be under ze 
San Juan shore.” 

“Well,” said Pete, who had just come aft again, 
“if that canoe has to fight a heavy sea, she can’t 
reach Lopez before daylight, and that’s where they 
generally lie in the daytime, ain’t it?” 

“Right, my boy, zere are a dozen good hiding 
places near ze Reservation.” 

“If that’s the case,” concluded Kennedy, “and 
they hold on, we’ve got a dead cinch on ’em.” 

“It looks like it,” replied Mr. Graignic, “if zey 
come to ze souz’ard, instead of running around 
Speiden island.” 

Another hour passed, and Kennedy looked at his 
watch again. 

“Twenty minutes to one,” he announced. 

“Stewart island is close ahead, and San Juan not 
zree miles off,” answered the Frenchman. 

“I think we are far enough. What do you say, 
sir?” 

“I agree wiz you, sir. Pete, let go ze halliards.” 

In a moment the sails came down, and the Tyee 
tossed idly on the swell. 


CHAPTER ELEVEN 


'T' HEY sat watching the clouds drift athwart the 
* heavens as the boat rode lightly on the increas- 
ing swell. Then Kennedy said: 

“Pete, have you got anything to eat? It’s your 
treat, and I feel peckish." 

Pete went into the cabin, and brought out some 
bread and butter, cold fried fish, and a junk of 
boiled salt pork. 

“It ain't as good as the Poodle Dog sets up," 
said he. 

“It's all right as long as it's filling," answered 
the captain. 

In fact they all made a hearty meal, and Pete 
had not much to carry back. They sat in silence 
for what seemed a long time. Captain Kennedy's 
glowing pipe showed that he was wide awake, and 
Pete passed the time by taking his revolver from 
his belt, and feeling every part of it lovingly. He 
loaded it, and put it back in its holster, perfectly 
happy in the possession of such a formidable 
weapon. 

“Two o'clock!" said Kennedy. 

The fisherman raised himself, and took a look 
around with the pair of powerful marine glasses 
the revenue officer had brought. 

108 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 109 

“We’ve drifted about four miles, sir. As near 
as I can figure we must be near Cow bay on San 
Juan. It’s pretty near time to see that flash, if 
everything goes as we calculated.” 

“By Jupiter ! there it is !” exclaimed Kennedy, as 
a rocket rose to the westward leaving a fiery trail, 
and burst into fragments high in air. 

“One!” counted Mr. Graignic. 

An interval of solemn silence followed, and then 
as the second rocket soared aloft, the revenue man 
sprang to his feet, and exclaimed joyously: 

“By the Great Horn Spoon! we’re in luck! 
She’s coming to the south’ard.” 

Pete said nothing, but he shifted the butt of his 
“gun” around to the right where his hand could 
drop on it easily. He remembered the expression 
in Mike McGovern’s false eyes in Lee Sing’s tea 
store, and congratulated himself that Kennedy and 
his father were with him. 

“Pete, take ze helm a moment,” said his father. 

He went into the cabin, and returned with his 
Winchester. 

“I guess I’ll get ze old gal ready,” said he. “She 
may want to say a word or two in zis affair.” 

He proceeded to fill the magazine with car- 
tridges. Captain Kennedy alone seemed to make 
no warlike preparations, and when the fisherman 
commented on the fact, he smiled and answered : 

“Oh! that’s all right. I always go heeled, but 
I’m like a bee, I carry my sting out of sight.” 


no 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

In the meantime the skies had become cloudier, 
and the moon shone out fitfully, while the increas- 
ing pitching and tossing of the Tyee showed that 
the sea was rapidly getting up. 

“How far are we from shore ?” asked Kennedy. 

“About zree miles, sir, and I zink we had better 
get in closer,” answered the fisherman. “Zat 
canoe will run closer in zis sea way, and we need 
to get zem against ze sky if we want to see zem 
in zis light. We had better hoist ze jib, and run 
in a bit.” 

“All right.” 

“Zen hoist away, Pete.” 

“Aye, aye, sir!” and the young sailor bowsed 
away on the halliards. 

Another half hour passed with leaden feet. The 
sloop lay close by the shore of San Juan in inky 
shadow that made even her swelling white jib seem 
black as a pall. Mr. Graignic kept her making 
easy stretches, going about without the rattle of a 
block or a flap of the canvas every ten or fifteen 
minutes. Not a word was spoken, but Kennedy 
who was an authority on aquatic matters himself, 
acknowledged in his own mind that the Frenchman 
was past-master in the art of small boat sailing. 

At last the stars began to pale in the skies, and 
the watch of each one grew more intense, as they 
began to fear they had missed their quarry. But 
no! Pete cocked his ear like a hound! his keen, 
half Indian hearing had detected a sound. He 


Ill 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

lifted his hand to attract the attention of the others. 

Captain Kennedy seized the glasses, and glued 
them to his eyes. In a moment he saw a faint, 
black streak against the heavens just beginning to 
grow pallid with the coming dawn. Faint phos- 
phorescent flashes glowed at intervals by this 
streak, and he handed the binoculars with a deep 
sigh of relief to Graignic, as he said softly : 

“There’s the canoe.” 

“Yes,” answered the fisherman, who “picked it 
up” at once, “zat’s her. And now, what are we 
going to do? Zey have not seen us, but it will be 
broad day in half an hour.” 

“Can we keep them in sight ten or fifteen min- 
utes without them knowing it? After that they 
can’t get away even if the Tyee is discovered.” 

“I zink so, I’ll try,” answered the fisherman. 
“We’ll lay a little closer in, and keep ze shadow of 
ze shore black on us.” 

The two men and the boy sat in the stern sheets 
of the Tyee as she flitted stealthily over the water. 
The fisherman’s skillful hand was on the tiller, and 
his keen glance turned from the canoe in the 
wind’s eye, to the black waters ahead. Captain 
Pete shivered with suspense, and at times thought 
he could hear his heart beat. One by one the stars 
paled, and became invisible. A cold, dim whiteness 
began to overspread the heavens, beginning in the 
east, and seeming to widen from there around the 
rim of the world. The waves, that had resembled 


1 12 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

boiling tar, caught the faint ghastly reflection from 
the sky, and rolled cadaverous and grisly between 
the Tyee and the canoe. Now the edge of the east- 
ern horizon changed to a delicate saffron, and then 
all in a moment, the sky was smeared with pink. 
The canoe became outlined against the heavens, and 
two black forms were seen in her bending earnestly 
to the oars. 

Precipitous bluffs, twenty-five or thirty feet 
high, still concealed the Tyee in their somber veil 
of shadow, but it could not be for long. The 
canoe was fully twelve hundred yards distant. 

“Where are we, Mr. Graignic?” asked Captain 
Kennedy. 

His voice sounded like a fog horn in Pete’s ear, 
although he had not spoken above his breath. The 
fisherman answered as cautiously: 

“Zis bluff ahead is ze souzeastern point of San 
Juan island. Across zere” — indicating the direc- 
tion the canoe was heading — “is Reservation, or 
Sherer’s point on Lopez island. Zere is a deep, 
narrow cove just on ze ozer side of the Point called 
Otter Hole, and I reckon zat’s about the place zose 
chaps are heading for.” 

“How far is it?” 

“About four miles.” 

Captain Kennedy pointed to a huge boulder that 
rose twenty-five feet out of the water about a 
hundred yards ahead of the Tyee. It stood nearly 
the same distance from the shore. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 113 

“Let’s get the sloop behind that boulder,” said he, 
“and lay low until the canoe is midway between this 
shore and Lopez. Can we catch them before they 
get ashore at Otter Hole if we start when they are 
half across?” 

“I reckon,” replied the fisherman, “we’ll make a 
close finish, anyhow.” 

A moment brought the Tyee into the desired 
berth. The jib was lowered, and Pete cautiously 
dropped a light kedge over the bow to hold on by. 
They remained quietly ten minutes ; then Pete hauled 
in the anchor, and the fisherman got out his huge 
sweeps, and brought the boat into a position where 
they could gain a view of the smugglers. Sure 
enough, they were tossing in the canoe midway be- 
tween the two shores. 

“Make sail!” said Mr. Graignic, speaking in his 
natural tones for the first time that morning. 

Pete sprang to the peak halliards, and Captain 
Kennedy took the throat as before. In a twinkle 
the great sail from which the reefs had been shaken, 
was drawing like a board, and the Tyee gallantly 
rushed through the waters with her lee gunwale 
awash. The jib was set, with the result of increas- 
ing the sloop’s speed, at the same time making her 
motion steadier and more comfortable. Captain 
Kennedy stood forward holding on by a stay, and 
looking eagerly through his glasses ahead. 

“Hooray!” he shouted, “now they see us, and are 
getting a hustle on themselves. If they get an idea 


1 14 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

we are revenue people, Mike will begin to figure on 
how to get rid of that dope. Three-fingered Bill 
is that pig-headed that he’d fight before he’d throw 
it overboard. Get on their track Mr. Graignic, and 
follow it as much as possible, and Pete and you had 
better keep a sharp lookout, for I wouldn’t be sur- 
prised if Mike were to fling it out. But he’d have 
a string tied to it, you bet.” 

“He may have some cache on shore, and count on 
reaching zat,” suggested the fisherman. 

“We’ll hope so,” returned Kennedy, “for we are 
going to push them so close that they won’t have 
much time to cache anything.” 

By this time the race — winning which meant pre- 
serving their threatened liberty to the fugitives, and 
glory and profit to the pursuers — became very ex- 
citing. The men in the canoe pulled nobly, and 
nobly did their craft respond to the demands made 
upon it. Despite the lumpiness of the water she 
flew over the sea like a deer over the prairie. The 
gallant Tyee — a mile behind — swooped along like 
a great, white-winged bird of prey. The fisherman 
stood at the helm, his gray eye sparkling with an- 
imation, keeping the sail a rap full, and not losing an 
inch that could possibly be gotten out of the boat. It 
was broad daylight now, and the Lopez shore was 
fully opened up in front of them. There, right 
ahead, was Reservation point, and Otter Hole just 
around it. It was fully evident now that the smug- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 115 

glers realized that the Tyee was in pursuit, and as 
the distance narrowed between the two boats the 
men in the canoe redoubled their exertions until 
she fairly flew. The water was also in their favor, 
for they were in a measure under the lee of San 
Juan, and the wind did not have its full sweep, 
consequently the waves were not so high as they 
had been. 

The fisherman measured the distance between the 
Tyee and the canoe with his eye again and again, 
and did not seem content with the result, for he 
shook his head in dissatisfaction. 

“We ain’t gaining fast enough,” said he finally, 
“Pete, give a pull on ze jib halliards, zen tauten 
ze peak of ze mains’l. We want every inch to draw 
now, or they’ll land and get into ze brush before 
we can catch zem.” 

Pete executed these orders, and then came back 
by his father, who still looked discontented. 

“Dad,” said he, “the sweeps?” 

These were two huge oars with which the sloop 
was equipped, and by the aid of which, when the 
wind failed, she could be propelled at quite at 
reasonable rate of speed. 

“I guess we’ll get zem out,” said Mr. Graignic. 
“Captain Kennedy, can you handle a sweep?” 

“Try me!” was the answer. 

“Then Pete, you take the tiller, and just keep 
that leech shivering.” 


n6 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

He and Kennedy each took a sweep, and placed 
it in the row locks, facing the bow, for the sweeps 
were pushed instead of pulled. 

“Now don’t catch a crab!” said the fisherman, as 
they each gave way simultaneously. 

Kennedy did not answer, but he clenched his 
teeth, and swung to the great oar as if he meant 
to break it, or pull the boat around. The sinewy 
fisherman, however, whose spare frame was all cat- 
gut and whalebone, was not the man to be pulled 
around, as the officer soon found. A few minutes 
of this exercise cleared the clouds from Mr. Graig- 
nic’s brow. 

“Zat’s it! Now we’ve got ’em!” he exclaimed, 
as he noted that they were hauling up on the canoe. 
“Steer small, Pete.” 

And now at last they were around the point, and 
Otter Hole opened deep and dark before them. 
The canoe flew in. Pete jibed the Tyee, took the 
wind on the opposite quarter, and swept in after 
like a greyhound straining behind his quarry. The 
smugglers headed for a point on the shore about 
a thousand yards ahead, and pulled like mad. But 
no matter how hard, under Pete’s skillful manage- 
ment, and the tremendous exertions of Captain 
Kennedy and Mr. Graignic, the sloop went two feet 
to the canoe’s one. Now only five hundred yards, 
and the Tyee two hundred and fifty in the rear! 
The smugglers made another frenzied spurt, and in 




















































































































































































































































































































































UP WENT TWO PAIR OF HANDS 





Captain Pete of Puget Sound 117 

spite of all that could be done by the pursuers, they 
drew a little ahead. 

One hundred yards! Fifty! 

"Tonnerre! here’s shoal water,” grunted the 
fisherman. "Zey’ll run up ten yards nearer ze beach 
zan we can.” 

Both boats struck the sand at the same moment, 
and almost before his companions could realize it, 
Captain Kennedy was over the side, and striding 
like Antaeus through three feet of water towards 
the smugglers with a revolver in each hand. 

"Don’t move, you fellows !” he called out, "if you 
do, I’ll shoot!” 

"I’m here, too,” said the sonorous voice of the 
fisherman, "and I zink it won’t be healzy for eizer 
of you to cross zat strip of beach to ze timber.” 

Mike and Three-fingered Bill looked around and 
saw Mr. Graignic standing on the bow of the Tyee 
with his Winchester at his shoulder, covering Cap- 
tain Kennedy’s advance. 

"Throw up your hands !” commanded the revenue 
man with a threatening gesture of the gun in his 
right fist, as he stepped on the beach. 

Up went two pair of hands as mechanically as 
if Captain Kennedy had operated them by 
machinery. 

"Now, Captain Pete,” continued he, "bring me 
those bracelets on the thwart.” 

As Pete obeyed, Mike McGovern gave vent to a 


n8 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

deep and audible oath. Kennedy smiled sooth- 
ingly, and proceeded to put the handcuffs on each 
of the precious pair, an operation to which they 
submitted like lambs, for the deadly muzzle of the 
fisherman’s Winchester took all the heart out of 
them. 

“Get your gun out, Pete,” said Kennedy, “and 
stand guard over these chaps while I examine the 
canoe. Don’t be afraid to shoot if they try any 
tricks, for they are a slippery pair.” 

“Aye, aye, sir,” answered Pete simply, and he 
got his revolver out with a steadiness that did him 
credit, and faced the two rascals undauntedly. 

Mike McGovern scowled at him viciously and 
said: 

“I’ll get a crack at you, you young devil, one of 
these days, and then you won’t feel so proud of 
yourself as you do now. First you lay my pardner 
by the heels, and then you get me. The boys are 
looking out for you already, but when they hear 
of this last job of yours, they won’t sleep easy till 
they do you up.” 

Captain Pete thought this an extremely probable 
and very unpleasant fact, and was revolving an 
answer in his mind, when Kennedy, who had heard 
Mike’s threat, strode up to that individual, and 
seized him by the throat in an iron grip that effect- 
ually stopped his tongue from further wagging. 

“Now,” said the revenue man, “if you say an- 
other word until I tell you to talk, I’ll choke the life 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 119 

out of you. And let me say to both of you, and you 
may tell it to any one you like, if Pete Graignic is 
ever troubled by any of you fellows, Pll follow him 
across the continent to catch him, and if there is 
enough left of him when I am thro* Pll have him 
hung. Now, you blackguard, take fair warning/’ 

And he gave the wretch a toss with the full vigor 
of his strong arm. Mike fell over on the back of 
his head, and then sat up on the sand gasping, 
while Three-fingered Bill, on whom the captain now 
bent his wrathful eye, preserved a discreet silence, 
and tried to look innocent of any intention to offend. 
Kennedy slowly and rather reluctantly turned back 
to the canoe, where Mr. Graignic awaited him. 

“Zey have made a magnificent boat out of zis 
canoe,” observed the latter to Kennedy. “See how 
zey have fined out her lines ! And zey have cross- 
braced her, and built big lockers in ze bow and 
stern sheets.” 

“Yes, she’s a daisy,” agreed he, “and she’ll come 
in very handy for revenue service. But there’s 
nothing in the bottom of her, let’s look into those 
lockers. Pm sure they haven’t had an instant’s 
time to heave the dope overboard since we sighted 
them, and so it must be in there.” 

Sure enough both lockers were found stored full 
of five tael cans of opium. 

“By the stripes of the Zebra !” exclaimed Kennedy 
enthusiastically, “this is a good job for us. There 
must be close onto two hundred pounds of the stuff 


120 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

here. That will make a good divvy between us. 
There’ll be $1200 of good American money in it for 
four of us, as we’ll have to let Harker in. There’s 
three hundred more for Pete, and three hundred for 
you Mr. Graignic, and I must say, you’ve both 
earned it.” 


CHAPTER TWELVE 


TOW what?” asked the fisherman. 

1 N “Get to Port Townsend as soon as possible, 
and hand over the dope and prisoners to the 
Collector. Great Snakes ! won’t he be tickled !” 

“Zen,” said Mr. Graignic, “we’d better take ze 
canoe in tow, and start. If zis wind holds I’ll get 
you zere by two o’clock zis afternoon.” 

“Right you are. We’ll make a start, and then 
Pete shall get us some breakfast, for this kind of 
work gives me an appetite.” 

They shoved the Tyee off into about six feet of 
water, and took the canoe alongside, transferring 
the precious cargo to the safe-keeping of the locker 
in the sloop. Kennedy went ashore again in the 
canoe, and brought off Captain Pete, and the two 
smugglers. While doing so, he informed Pete, with 
delightful disregard of the feelings of the two ras- 
cals, of the rich prize they had secured. Pete was 
bewildered by this new accession of wealth, but de- 
lighted to find they were bound for Port Town- 
send, for he was glad of the chance to meet the 
collector, and perhaps also, he was not unwilling 
to see his daughter Grace again. At any rate* he 
made not the slightest objection to the proposed trip, 
and after Mike and Bill were securely fastened to 
121 


122 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

the iron stanchions in the cockpit, started up the 
fire in the little cook stove in the cabin, and set 
about his preparations for breakfast in a very merry 
and hopeful frame of mind; not at all bothered by 
visions of future complications with the smugglers 
or their friends. 

That morning meal was a jolly and hearty one 
— at least to Pete and his friends — and if it had not 
been for the two sour-faced miscreants who sat 
bound in the bottom of the boat, it might have been 
mistaken for a picnicking party enjoying life on the 
sunny waters without a care. 

To add to their pleasure, about eight o’clock and 
shortly after Pete had finished washing his break- 
fast dishes, the Black Pup hove in sight. A rev- 
enue flag, which was part of Captain Kennedy’s 
equipment, was hoisted at the gaff. This brought 
Lieutenant Higgins up with a full head of steam, 
and he was delighted when he heard the story of 
the important capture. His blue eyes twinkled with 
satisfaction, though he affected to grumble at Pete’s 
luck, and swore he’d drive that “young cub” off the 
Sound if he didn’t stop interfering with the revenue 
men, and picking up the prizes they were justly 
entitled to. 

“I suppose,” said he addressing Pete, “you 
will want to give up the fishing business altogether, 
and go to catching smugglers instead of halibut. 
What are you going to do with all your money, 
anyhow? I have a notion to come up to Wald- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 123 

ron island, and take it away from you some fine 
night.” 

This banter tickled Pete, for he understood the 
worthy lieutenant thoroughly and enjoyed his jok- 
ing. 

“Come along, sir,” cried he merrily, “Dad and I 
will be on the lookout for you. See my new gun ?” 

“By thunder!” growled the sea dog, “if the 
whippersnapper hasn’t got a gun! Well, it’s more 
dangerous to you than it is to anybody else. That’s 
one comfort.” 

“Don’t be to sure of that,” laughed Pete, “I’m 
going to be a dead shot in a week.” 

“Let the lad alone, you envious old sorehead,” 
said Kennedy, who was a particular chum of the 
lieutenant. 

After this incident came the long sail through 
the beautiful archipelago, and as the fisherman had 
predicted, they arrived in Fort Townsend early in 
the afternoon. 

The prisoners were shackled together, and the 
revenue officer, who had an eye to dramatic efifect, 
marched them up Water street to the custom house 
building. The Collector was as much pleased as 
Captain Kennedy had anticipated when he heard 
the tale of the capture of Mike McGovern, and 
Three-fingered Bill. 

“By George!” he ejaculated, “that breaks up the 
whole crew. Now that we’ve nailed these three 
fellows, it’ll scare the rest so that I’ll have an easy 


124 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

time of it for months. These were the ringleaders 
of half the revenue trouble on the Sound. And to 
think that little Captain Pete was in it again! By 
Jove ! that boy is a mascot to the customs department 
of Puget Sound. Pete, Pve a good mind to stuff 
you, and hang you up over the department door.” 

“I was stuffed by Captain Kennedy, sir,” an- 
swered Pete, “before I left Victoria, at the Poodle 
Dog restaurant.” 

This drew a laugh from them all, and then Ken- 
nedy told how Pete had wanted to eat pork and 
beans and ice cream on that occasion, which made 
Pete turn red, and hope in his mind, that the Col- 
lector would not repeat the story to Grace. 

Before they left the office the captured opium was 
weighed, and there was found to be exactly 224 
pounds, which valued at $12 per pound would 
amount to $2688, half of which would go to Pete, 
his father, Kennedy, and Harker in equal shares 
of $336 each. 

“And by the way,” said the Collector, “I have had 
your account allowed for the Bill Kelley affair, and 
so Mr. Graignic, here is a United States draft for 
$320 as your share of the opium find in Dogfish 
pass. Captain Pete, step up here a moment, 
Here’s a check for you, too. Look at it, and see if 
it’s right, and then give me a receipt for it.” 

Pete took the oblong piece of paper, and studied 
it a minute. At last he puzzled out that it was a 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 125 

United States order to pay to Captain Pete Graig- 
nic the sum of $520.00. 

“Five hundred and twenty dollars !” he gasped, 
“is that all mine?” 

“Yes, Pete,” said the Collector kindly, “you are 
paid $200 for your assistance, and the use of your 
boat at the capture of the smugglers, in addition to 
the $320 you are entitled to for the discovery of the 
opium. There’s the receipt.” 

The boy took a pen with trembling fingers, and 
wrote his name on the form. 

“You had better come up, and see Mrs. Hogan 
and the girls to-night,” said the Collector as Pete 
and his father took their departure. 

“Thank you, sir, I’ll come,” was Pete’s answer. 

“Now, Pete,” observed the fisherman, as they 
walked down the street. “What shall we do wiz 
our money? We don’t want to carry zese checks 
around wiz us.” 

“I wanted to take mine to Major Fisher,” replied 
he, “and ask him the best way to lay it out on my 
education.” 

“Well, zat’s right,” said his father, “but I guess 
you had better come into ze Port Townsend National 
Bank here wiz me. You can deposit ze treasury 
order, and open an account. Zen when you want 
to give any, or all of it to ze Major, you can write 
him a check for ze amount. In zat way you will 
be safer. You might lose ze treasury check, or 


126 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

have it stolen. Zat’s what Pm going to do wiz my 
$320.” 

"All right, sir. Pll do so too.” 

Pete was so dazzled by his splendid stroke of 
fortune, and such palpable evidence of his wealth 
as the possession of a bank account, and being able 
to draw his own check, that the polite receiving 
teller who took his deposit, could hardly realize that 
this dazed little man was the Captain Pete with 
whose praises the whole town was ringing. How- 
ever, he gave the boy his deposit book entered up 
with the amount $520, and courteously asked him 
if he would like a pocket check book. This question 
bewildered our hero still more, but his father 
answered for him, and a neat little book was passed 
over. Then Mr. Graignic transacted his business, 
and the two went down to the Tyee, where Pete re- 
covered his balance in the familiar occupation of 
getting supper. He stopped, however, while he was 
frying eggs and bacon, to take out his check book, 
and gaze fondly on it. 

"Let’s go up the hill, Dad,” said Pete, as the 
hands of the clock began to near eight, "to the Col- 
lector’s house. You know he asked us.” 

"I’ll walk up wiz you, but not go in. I must 
hunt up an old friend I want to see to-night. How- 
ever, I’ll call for you at ten o’clock, and we’ll come 
home togezzer.” 

Now the truth of the matter was that the wise 
old fisherman was not acquainted with a soul in Port 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 127 

Townsend that he cared a snap of his finger about 
seeing, but he knew that the Collector had taken a 
fancy to his boy; and that while he and his family 
would be glad to see him, it was certain that they 
would not care much about having his father — a 
grizzled old French fisherman, married to an In- 
dian woman — visit them. Moreover, he suspected 
it might possibly do actual harm to the lad’s pros- 
pects if his new friends were brought into contact 
with his family. He had the sagacity to conceal 
this view of affairs from his son, for he knew it 
would only make the boy uncomfortable, and per- 
haps resentful to what was perfectly natural and 
right. It was easy to see where some of Pete’s 
character came from. 

Pete spent a little more time than the fisherman 
considered necessary in getting himself up, and 
brushing his hair. He did not know of Grace, for 
Pete — the sly rascal — had scarcely mentioned her, 
and soon they started up the steep flight of wooden 
steps, by which the upper town was reached from 
the water front. 

The boy rang at the door bell as his father went 
away, and the servant, who recognized him, took 
his cap from his hand, and opening the parlor door, 
announced : 

“Mr. Graignic!” 

The Collector’s family were all gathered about the 
open fireplace, and the two girls at once arose as 
his name was announced. 


128 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Come over here, Pete, my boy,” called out the 
Collector, “I am not going to let the girls have you 
all to themselves.” 

Pete shook hands with Grace and her sister, and 
made his way to Mrs. Hogan, whom he greeted, 
and finally sat down by the Collector. 

“You have been distinguishing yourself again, 
Mr. Graignic, I hear,” said Mrs. Hogan. 

Pete was elated at hearing himself called mister, 
but the next moment he took it all back, for Grace’s 
silvery voice chimed in : 

“Mamma! don’t call him Mr. Graignic. He’s 
our friend Captain Pete. Aren’t you, Pete?” and 
she laughed gaily. 

“Call me anything you please,” said he, “as long 
as you’re my friend.” 

“That’s right, Pete,” spoke up the Collector, “but 
Mrs. Hogan and the girls want you to tell them the 
story of your last adventure with the smugglers.” 

“You can tell it, sir, ever so much better than I.” 

“No ! no !” burst in Grace again. “No one but the 
hero shall tell the story. Now, please, Captain 
Pete?” 

And she put up her little white paws like a beg- 
ging puppy. 

The boy related the story, and really told it very 
well and modestly, while the women hung on his 
words, and shivered, and trembled at the exciting 
parts, and overwhelmed him with praise when he 
was through. 


129 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Pete,” said the Collector, who had been gazing 
into the fire thoughtfully during the latter part of 
his story, “you will have between eight and nine 
hundred dollars of your own when you get settled 
up for this last affair.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“What are you going to do with it?” 

They all watched Captain Pete’s ingenuous face 
for the answer. It did not come readily. He 
started to speak, and then blushed vividly through 
his tan, and was so manifestly embarrassed that the 
Collector made haste to say. 

“Well, there, never mind, my boy. I suppose 
it’s none of my business. Only we’re all friends 
of yours here, and naturally feel interested in your 
affairs.” 

Pete made an effort, and blurted out : 

“I don’t mind telling you at all, sir, only I was 
afraid you might laugh at me. I am going to try 
to get an education with it, sir. I know what a 
dunce I am, but I will study hard, and my father 
has consented, and Major Fisher is going to help 
me out by showing me how to go to work about it.” 

“Now, that’s capital!” exclaimed the Collector. 

And the irrespressible Grace added with great 
earnestness : 

“Captain Pete, I think you are a brave, good boy, 
and I am proud of your acquaintance.” 

“Major Fisher is a capital fellow,” said the Col- 
lector, “you can’t go far wrong if you follow his 


130 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

advice. But where do you propose to study, Pete?” 

“I don’t know for certain, sir. But I think here 
in Port Townsend.” 

“Well, that’s brave ! If you do, we’ll keep an eye 
on you ourselves. Won’t we, ma?” 

“We certainly will,” answered Grace. 

When Pete took his leave, he thought he had 
never passed a pleasanter evening, and it is to be 
feared that he was a trifle inattentive to the re- 
marks his father made on the way back to the sloop. 
The next day Captain Kennedy came down to the 
Tyee before Mr. Graignic started home. He took 
the opportunity to say to the fisherman, while his 
son was in the cabin : 

“Mr. Graignic, if I were you, I should keep my 
eyes open pretty wide when you are around home. 
I don’t want to scare Pete or you, but I think it 
very likely that some of Kelley’s or McGovern’s 
friends may hunt you up, if they are in your neigh- 
borhood, and they wouldn’t be very gentle if they 
caught you foul.” 

“I’ve figured ze chances of zat, myself,” replied 
the fisherman, “and I zink likely you are right 
enough. But after all, we’ve got to take some risk 
in zis world, and I’m willing to for $320.” 

“All right. Good-bye, Pete,” called the warm- 
hearted revenue man. 


CHAPTER THIRTEEN 


O N the trip back to Waldron island Captain Pete 
broached the cherished subject of his education 
again to his father, and it was agreed that as he 
had now $520 in the bank to start with, there was 
no reason why he should not put his plans in opera- 
tion as soon as possible. It was decided that he 
should go to Friday Harbor the next day in the 
Tyee, see Major Fisher, and make the arrangements 
for starting to study as soon as practicable. As 
Pete put it, he was old enough already, and didn't 
want to lose another day if he could help it. 

When father and son arrived at their home it 
was late, for the wind had been light and baffling 
most of the trip. Mrs. Graignic was delighted to 
hear of the new windfall, but when she was told 
that Pete was going to the county seat so soon to 
see the major, she showed her dissatisfaction 
plainly; and when she had an opportunity in the 
boy's absence, talked to her husband energetically 
about the matter. She took a different view of the 
schooling project from the rest, and while she ad- 
mitted that it was possibly advisable, she did not 
approve of its involving a separation from his 
family. She thought that now, since they had been 
so fortunate as to earn this large sum, the best plan 
131 


132 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

would be to leave the farm, and take a house in 
Port Townsend for a year. Thus Pete could get 
his schooling while living at home with them. 

This proposition put the old fisherman in a quan- 
dary. He differed from his spouse, and he did not 
care about telling her the reasons why he did so. 
He saw, or thought he saw, clearly that Pete had 
made a great many friends of late who would, if 
he followed the career his father anticipated, be of 
the utmost value to him; and he realized fully that 
if these people took Pete up, the presence of the 
boy’s connections would certainly prove a clog that 
would interfere with his progress. Altogether he 
thought the best thing for Pete’s welfare would be 
to keep his family as far in the background as pos- 
sible. It was not reasonable, however, to suppose 
that his wife would be inclined to accept this view 
of affairs, so he told her what Captain Kennedy 
had said about the probability of the smugglers at- 
tempting to do them some injury. Nothing was so 
likely, he assured her, as that they would pay a visit 
to the ranche some day, and burn the buildings, and 
otherwise destroy the property if there were no one 
there to prevent them. This argument appealed 
strongly to the Indian woman, who did not want 
to risk losing her home, so she finally came around 
to her husband’s opinion. 

The next morning Captain Pete was up bright 
and early. He went aboard the Tyee, and gave her 
a thorough scrubbing, inboard and outboard, of 


133 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

which she stood in need, for her late voyage had 
left its traces. He overhauled the rigging to see 
that she showed no signs of wear and tear, and 
wound up by making everything as snug as he 
could. Then he stripped, and diving from the deck 
into the cool, clean, salt water, had a glorious swim. 
He came in to breakfast dressed in his new toggery, 
and looked so handsome, healthy, and good that his 
father glanced at him in honest pride. 

Pete made away with a hearty breakfast of fried 
eggs and bacon, potatoes, and hot biscuit, and say- 
ing good-bye, set off for Friday Harbor. But oh ! 
how different, thought he, as he stood by the tiller, 
and watched the spray fly on either side of the gal- 
lant sloop’s cutwater — from the last time that he had 
come along to peddle fish. Then he didn’t know 
Tom, or Mrs. Fisher, or the Major, or the Col- 
lector, or — Grace. Then he was a little ragged 
urchin, foredoomed to a life of incessant and ig- 
noble toil, with no higher aspirations than the suc- 
cessful sale of a load of fish. 

Now, he seemed in the first place, years older. 
He had been among men, and had been tried, and 
not found wanting. He had a fortune — nearly a 
thousand dollars, counting the last haul ; and above 
all, he was going to be educated, and have a chance 
in life. He might if he were worthy become a 
merchant, or a lawyer, or a doctor — anything was 
in his reach. He could live in a nice house, and 
have pretty things around him, he could wear good 


134 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

clothes all the time, and live on terms of equality 
with even such people as the Collector. Why not? 
It all depended on himself. At the thought, his 
cheek flushed, his bosom swelled, and he felt the 
courage and faith that moves mountains in his 
heart. 

Tom Fisher stood on Sweeney’s wharf as the 
Tyee, and her boy captain came up to the pier. 
Pete, by the way, had written a letter to Tom on 
his arrival at Port Townsend, telling him of his 
latest adventure, and his intention to come and see 
the major as soon as possible. 

When the two friends met after the boat was 
tied, there was great handshaking, and a number 
of breathless questions, and delighted remarks from 
Tom, which were as eagerly and cordially re- 
sponded to by Pete. 

As they passed by Sweeney’s store on the way to 
the hotel, that jolly giant espied the captain, and 
came out: 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d get proud so easy, 
Captain Pete!” said he, “ain’t you going to speak 
to your old friends, now you’ve got prosperous and 
wear store clothes?” 

Pete laughed, and answered composedly — for he 
was rapidly becoming accustomed to his new estate : 

“You mustn’t judge me too harshly, Mr. 
Sweeney, because I didn’t buy my new clothes of 
you.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 135 

“That’s it! that’s it! you’re getting too proud to 
deal in a country store now,” returned the Irish- 
man, as he shook hands heartily with the boy. 
“Well, anyhow, Pete, I’m glad to hear such good ac- 
counts of you. You’ve showed those custom house 
fellows the stuff a San Juan boy is made of, and I 
guess there’s nothing wrong if you do feel your oats 
a little.” 

“Much obliged, Mr. Sweeney,” said Pete, more 
soberly, “but I don’t think you need be afraid of 
my getting proud.” 

“That’s right, Pete. I’ll back you not to make 
much of a fool of yourself.” 

The lads passed on, and found Mrs. Fisher on the 
hotel piazza. 

“My dear boy,” she said, as she warmly greeted 
Pete, “how well you are looking. Major Fisher 
is upstairs writing some letters, and said you were 
to come to him as soon as you arrived. Tom, you 
show Captain Pete the way, and come down again. 
I want you to walk with me to the store.” 

“All right, mother,” answered Tom, who knew 
his father desired to talk to Pete alone. 

As the fisher boy entered the room, the major 
turned from the table where he had been writing: 

“Hallo, Captain,” said he, “I’ve been waiting for 
you ! Sit down here. I hear from Lieutenant 
Higgins and Tom that you’ve had another slice of 
good luck in the smuggling way. W ell, that’s tip- 
top. How much this time, Pete?” 


136 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Between three and four hundred dollars, the 
Collector said. And Major, when I was in Port 
Townsend he gave me $520 for the Bill Kelley 
business, and I’ve got it deposited in the Port Town- 
send National Bank.” 

“Well! well!” exclaimed the major, “between 
eight and nine hundred dollars in less than one 
month ! That’s not bad for a boy. But you have 
earned it fairly. However, you must not expect 
that money always comes in so easily as that. You 
have been very lucky.” 

“I know that, sir,” returned the lad. “It’ll be a 
long time before I can do it again ; and so I want to 
make the best use of it possible. And, sir, my 
father told me to get your advice, and act just as 
you said about it all.” 

“He did, eh? Well, that’s very flattering, and 
kind of you and him. But do you know, my boy, it 
is a great deal of responsibility for me to take. If, 
for instance, I tell you what to do with your money, 
and you should lose it through taking my advice, 
what would you and your father think of me ?” 

Pete looked blank as this possibility was sug- 
gested to him, but he rallied at once, and said : 

“Why, that it couldn’t be helped, sir. And be- 
sides, it’s much less likely than if I engineered it 
myself. Won’t you please take it all, and lay it out 
so I can get as much as possible for it in the way 
of education? By the time it is gone, perhaps I 
can work, and earn more.” 


*37 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Well, Pete, since you want it so much, and your 
father is willing, I’ll do the best I can for you. In 
the first place, you draw me a check for three 
hundred dollars, and I’ll write you a receipt for it. 
That will leave you a balance of $220 in the bank. 

1 will invest the three hundred for you in land, if 
you are willing to trust my judgment.” 

“All right, sir,” answered Pete, as he blushingly 
drew out his check book, and picked up a pen to 
fill out his first check. He wrote it carefully, and 
passed it over to the major. 

The latter glanced at it, and remarked: 

“That would get the money, my boy, but let me 
show you a wrinkle about drawing checks. First 
look here. Suppose you had twenty-three hundred 
dollars in the bank, instead of five hundred^ and 
twenty! — ” Here he inserted the word twenty in 
Pete’s check before the written sum, and the figure 

2 before the figure 3. The check as Pete had filled 
it out, looked like this : 


No. 1. Port Townsend, Sept. 8th, 1888. 

PORT TOWNSEND NATIONAL BANK 

Pay to the order of Major Thomas Fisher 

Three Hundred Dollars. 

$ 300 Captain Pete Graignic. 


138 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

After the major had added the word and figure 
to it, it read as shown below : 


No. 1. Port Townsend, Sept. 8th, 1888. 

PORT TOWNSEND NATIONAL BANK 

Pay to the order of Major Thomas Fisher 

Twenty Three Hundred Dollars. 

$2300. Captain Pete Graignic. 


Captain Pete watched the process of transform- 
ing three hundred dollars into twenty-three hundred 
with open mouth. 

“Jimmy!” he ejaculated, “I never thought of that 
way of making two thousand dollars!” 

“It has been done very often, my boy, by dis- 
honest men. And that is the reason I spoiled this 
check showing you the trick. Now take your book 
again, and fill it out as before, payable to Major 
Thomas Fisher. Write your three hundred, and 
put the three close up against this line, and your 
figure three close to the dollar mark. There, sign 
your name to it, and you have got a check that 
nobody can raise on you without erasing some- 
thing, which the bank clerk is almost sure to detect. 
Stop! Before you tear out the check, fill in the 
stub. Sept. 8th, 1888, Major Thos. Fisher, $300. 
It is well to learn to be precise about these matters, 


139 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Pete. Good business habits are very important. 
And by the way, my lad, what a neat hand you 
write.” 

“Yes, sir, father taught me.” 

“Now let me give you a receipt for the three 
hundred dollars.” 

The major wrote one, and passed it to Pete, say- 
ing: “There, Pete, put that carefully away, and 
don’t lose it.” 

“Oh! I’m not afraid you’ll run away with the 
money,” said the boy. 

“Perhaps not, Pete. But suppose this hotel 
should burn down some night after I have drawn 
the money, and I, and all my papers perished in the 
flames. Where would your three hundred dollars 
be?” 

The boy flushed at his own heedlessness and stu- 
pidity : “I see you are right, sir, and I was wrong 
and very foolish. Nobody would know you had 
had it, and I could not get it back.” 

Then he carefully folded up the previously de- 
spised receipt, and put it in his inside pocket. 

“I told you I was going to buy land for you with 
that three hundred dollars, Pete,” continued the 
major, “would you like to know where?” 

“If you please, sir,” answered Pete, who although 
he had perfect confidence in his friend’s judgment, 
was determined to make no more mistakes. 

“Well, come and look at this map of Hidalgo 
island.” 


140 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Yes, sir, I know it well. Dad and I have often 
been there hunting.” 

“So much the better. Now what I am going to 
tell you, Pete, you must not repeat to any one. I 
am showing how much confidence I have in your 
discretion and good sense by telling you.” 

Pete set his teeth tight, and looked very 
resolute, and after glancing at his speaking face, 
the major resumed: 

“I have reason to believe — good reason, that is in 
fact, a certainty — that some very wealthy men have 
bought land on Hidalgo and intend to build a large 
city there. You see, it is only slightly separated 
from the mainland, and a railroad can be easily 
built to it. It has a splendid water front, and pos- 
sible accommodations for shipping; and it lies 
practically at the mouth of a large valley that has 
an enormous amount of timber, and will eventually 
possess agricultural wealth.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Pete, looking very earnest now, 
“I understand.” 

“Well, in short,” continued the major, “I have so 
much confidence in there being a city on that island 
that I have invested all the savings I have in buy- 
ing land there. I think in a few years — maybe 
two or three — I shall make a great deal of money 
from the investment. Now I know of thirty acres 
on Hidalgo bay, alongside of a place I own that can 
be bought for ten dollars an acre. This is where 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 141 

I intend to put your money, Pete, and I hope you 
will make your hundreds into thousands if we have 
good luck.” 

The fisher boy drew a long breath. He had a 
vivid imagination, and he realized at once the mag- 
nitude of what the major was doing for him. If 
the city were built — and the major was so certain 
of it he had put his own money in it — his thirty 
acres would make him a rich man. 

“Oh! Major!” he cried, “what can I do to show 
you how thankful I am?” 

“Never mind that yet, Pete. Don’t be too sure. 
Nothing is absolutely certain in this world but 
Death and Taxes. I may be fooling my money, and 
yours away on wild land, though I think, even at 
that, we cannot lose much in the end.” 

“I am satisfied, sir,” said the boy. 

“All right then, I will make the deal for you, and 
have the deed made out in your name. I’ll have 
it all attended to in a week. Now about your other 
plans. How would you like to go to Port Town- 
send with us next week?” 

“Very much,” answered the boy, his face light- 
ing up. 

“Well, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t. 
I know a man there who is a sound scholar, and has 
been unfortunate in business. I think he would 
be glad to give you lessons in any of the branches 
you require at present at the rate of ten or fifteen 


142 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

dollars a month. Then you can live with us, or if 
you prefer it, take a room of your own, and do your 
cooking yourself, or eat at the restaurants.” 

“I believe I would rather do the last, sir. That 
is, take a room, and do my own cooking,” con- 
cluded Pete, who was as independent as Julius 
Caesar, and knew that the major did not intend to 
take any money for his board. 

“I thought it likely you would,” rejoined the 
major with a smile, “and perhaps you are right. 
At any rate, I hope you will come and see us as 
often as your studies will permit.” 

“Won’t I !” exclaimed Pete in a very convincing 
tone, “you’re awfully good to let me.” 

“Then that settles it all. Now go and see Tom 
and Mrs. Fisher, and I’ll finish my writing. But 
remember, Pete, don’t breathe a word about Hi- 
dalgo island. I depend on your honor.” 

“Yes, sir — no, sir — I mean you may trust me 
sir.” 

Mrs. Fisher and Tom were awaiting him, and 
they saw at once by the glad light in his face, that 
everything had gone as he wished. 

“Well, Pete,” asked the lady, “have you made up 
your mind to go to Port Townsend with us, when 
we leave here?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Oh! Mrs. Fisher, what a kind 
man the major is, and how good he has been to 
me!” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 143 

She smiled proudly. Even the fisher boy’s trib- 
ute to her husband was precious to her. 

“Are you going to live with us?” Tom burst in. 

Pete answered somewhat uncomfortably: “No, 
Tom. I thought I would rather keep house my- 
self.” 

“That’s mean of you,” remarked Tom, promptly 
and decidedly, “I was afraid you wouldn’t. We’d 
have had bully times together.” 

“You’ll see plenty of me, anyhow,” rejoined Pete, 
“when I ain’t busy with my lessons. But I’ll have 
to study hard; remember how much I’ve got to 
make up. Mrs. Fisher, mayn’t I take Tom home 
with me to-day to stay until I come back to go up 
with you?” 

“You had better ask the Major, Captain Pete. 
You cannot start before dinner, any way.” 

The major decided that as there were only four 
days until they all left, Tom could accompany Pete, 
and stay with him half the time, provided Pete 
would then return, and visit his son the remainder 
of the period, and this was finally settled on. 


CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

A FTER dining with Mrs. Fisher and the major, 
the boys started back in the sloop, and arrived 
at Waldron island early in the evening without any 
adventure worth recording. 

Mr. and Mrs. Graignic were told of the arrange- 
ment in regard to Pete, and that he had decided to 
go to Port Townsend on the following Monday to 
begin his studies. The announcement had an un- 
expected effect on Pete's mother. She said noth- 
ing at the time, but a half hour later Pete dis- 
covered her out in the back yard under an apple 
tree, with her head buried in her apron, and her 
shoulders heaving convulsively. This was so un- 
like the stolid mother whom he had never seen 
give way to emotion that the boy was greatly 
alarmed. He ran hastily for his father, and the 
two between them, finally soothed and cheered her 
until she suffered herself to be somewhat com- 
forted. The fisherman found out that she com- 
prehended far more than he had wished her to, of 
his desires and intentions in regard to Pete's future. 
In fact, the poor creature had conceived the idea 
that she herself was the stumbling-block in the way 
of her son's advancement, and with a mother's 
abnegation, she had now resolved to deny herself 
144 


145 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

ever seeing him again, in order that his welfare 
might be the more fully established. Mr. Graignic 
was careful to prevent Pete from perceiving her 
frame of mind, and at last succeeded in convincing 
her that her fears were groundless, and that after 
a time they would all live together again as before. 

The fisherman had never before seen his wife 
overcome by her feelings, and he felt that it marked 
the difference between her and most of her nation- 
ality, in whom as a rule, even femininity does not 
soften the racial characteristics. On the whole, he 
was rather proud that she felt the separation so 
deeply. At the same time, he knew in his own 
heart that this would probably be final, and al- 
though he was prepared to sacrifice everything to 
his boy’s advantage, the wrench of parting was a 
hard one to him, as well as to his wife. 

Naturally, such being the state of mind of both 
parents, those last days were not greatly enjoyed by 
either Tom or Pete. The latter was depressed and 
his almost remorseful tenderness to his father and 
mother and the children was very noticeable. 
When the last morning came Pete broke down 
completely. His father had given him a seaman’s 
chest, which was packed full of everything his 
mother thought he was likely to need in the refined 
state of society he was going to enter. Pete often 
looked over the barbaric collection afterwards with 
a smile on his lips, and a wet eye. 

As the dingy was hauled up to the water’s edge, 


146 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

the whole group gathered around Pete. His eyes 
streamed as he kissed them all, and followed Tom 
and his father into the boat. In a moment more 
they were on the Tyee, the anchor up, and sail set, 
and Pete was off on his voyage into an unknown 
world. 

The fisherman took the boys to Friday Harbor 
in order to bring home the sloop, and he did not 
linger about his return. First, however, he called 
on Major Fisher, and thanked him for his good 
offices in regard to Pete. In fact, they had a pri- 
vate talk which appeared greatly to cheer him, for 
the major, who had come to respect the sturdy old 
fisherman, pictured Pete’s future to him in glowing 
colors, and spoke so confidently in regard to the 
boy’s willingness and ability to take advantage of 
his opportunities, that Mr. Graignic was not only 
satisfied, but delighted with his son’s prospects. 
The major also promised to keep a general super- 
vision over the boy, and to let his father know by 
letter from time to time of his progress. Then he 
embraced his son, and set sail for his lonely home. 

Two days after this the Fishers and Pete em- 
barked on the Evangel for Port Townsend. The 
latter spent a great deal of time in the engine room, 
and gained so much practical information that he 
was almost qualified to take out a license by the 
end of the trip. 

The Fishers rented a house by the year in Port 
Townsend, and as they insisted that Pete should re- 


147 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

main with them until he got settled in his own 
quarters, the two boys slept together that night. 
The next morning after breakfast, Pete caught an 
opportunity to speak to the major alone : 

“Major,” he said, “I have no time to waste, and 
I am going to hunt up a room this morning. I shall 
buy the furniture, and get fixed so I can turn in 
there to-night. If we can see that man you thought 
would teach me this afternoon or evening, I could 
just as well as not commence my lessons to-mor- 
row.” 

“You do not intend to let grass grow under your 
feet, do you?” observed the major, well pleased with 
this evidence of his protege's energy and prompt- 
ness. “Well, go ahead, but don't you think you 
had better take Tom with you? He's a sharp fel- 
low, and knows more about prices than you do.” 

“I was going to ask him, sir.” 

“All right, then. I will see Mr. Patton, the 
gentleman I had in mind, this morning, and if he 
can teach you, I will make an appointment with 
him to meet you here this evening.” 

The boys were so fortunate as to find, only two 
blocks away, an old couple who had more room in 
their house than they needed, and were glad to rent 
to Pete, at two dollars a month, a large apartment 
on the ground floor with a door opening directly 
into the yard, so that he could go out and in without 
disturbing the other inmates of the house. This 
suited him precisely, and the two lads started down 


148 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

to Water street at once to purchase the necessary 
furniture for Pete’s housekeeping. 

On his former visit to the city Pete had observed 
a number of secondhand stores that seemed to have 
abundant stocks of furniture and household goods, 
and it was these that he proposed to patronize. As 
a matter of fact, the secondhand store business was 
a flourishing one in the Northwest during the boom 
times. Many people moved from one town to an- 
other, hurrying in the race for wealth, as they saw 
new or better chances to do business. Money was 
plentiful, and transportation facilities so limited and 
expensive, that most families sold their household 
effects for what they would bring at auction, and 
purchased new furnishings when they settled down 
again. This was the golden opportunity of the 
secondhand-man, and his race multiplied, and 
waxed fat. 

The boys soon found a shop that appeared to an- 
swer their purpose, and went in to price the articles 
they had on their list. The merchant saw at once 
that the boys had money, and meant business, and 
with the instincts of his class, calculated on work- 
ing some of his unsaleable stock off on them. He 
soon found, however, that he had made a mistake, 
and that if Captain Pete was a greenhorn, he was 
about the coolest and most practical one this dealer 
had ever come across, while Tom Fisher had an 
amount of tact and worldly wisdom that compelled 
admiration. 


149 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

After a few preliminary skirmishes in which the 
lads showed their mettle, the dealer came down to 
business. Pete finally bought a folding bedstead, 
a kitchen stove, some tables and chairs, and the 
requisite cooking utensils at a very reasonable 
figure. He ordered, on Tom's hint, a receipted 
bill made out, and filled a check for the amount on 
the spot. Then he directed the things to be sent 
to his room. 

When they returned, they found the furniture 
had already arrived. As it was still a couple of 
hours until lunch time, the boys took off their coats, 
and set to with a will to get things in order. The 
stove was first put up, and the rest of the bulky 
articles arranged in place, after which Pete bor- 
rowed a hammer and some nails from his landlord, 
and fixed up shelves for his crockery, etc. Fi- 
nally he tacked up some muslin he had bought to 
serve as a screen, and soon had the kitchen parti- 
tioned off. The result of their combined labors 
was that they turned the large, bare room into a 
very comfortable apartment for a bachelor boy, 
and as Pete found out when he consulted the stubs 
of his check book, it had only cost him $38.75. 

Nevertheless the fisher boy looked grave when 
he summed up the amount — which indeed was 
larger than it would have been had it not been for 
the advice and encouragement of Tom — and was 
inclined to tax himself with extravagance. Tom, 
however, pointed out to him that his purchases had 


150 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

been so judiciously made that the articles would sell 
again for nearly the sum they had cost, at the end 
of his use of them, and — 

“Besides,” added he, “a fellow must look decent, 
and live decently, if he wants to be anybody.” 

This last observation did more to convince Pete 
than all the balance of Tom’s logic, and as they 
went to lunch, he no longer regretted the expendi- 
ture, because if it bought decency, it was well spent. 
The major expressed himself well pleased with the 
result of the boy’s morning labors, and said he 
would walk over that afternoon with Mrs. Fisher 
to view Pete’s new home. He was acquainted 
with the old gentleman from whom the room had 
been rented, and said he was thoroughly respect- 
able, and the place probably fit in every way. As 
for himself, he had seen Mr. Patton, who would 
undertake to coach Pete in his studies for a reason- 
able sum, and would come around at eight that 
evening to make the acquaintance of his new pupil, 
and lay out the course of study. 

After lunch the boys returned to Pete’s room. 
They made a trip out for the purpose of laying in 
a stock of groceries, and on their return found 
Tom’s father and mother had arrived. They were 
well satisfied with the looks of things, and the lady 
suggested some changes in the arrangement of the 
furniture, which were executed on the spot with 
the result that the room looked much cosier. She 
also offered to lend Pete a rug which was not in 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 15 1 

use, to put in the center of the floor, and in spite 
of his dislike to being under obligations, he ac- 
cepted because he was afraid of offending her by 
a refusal. 

“Suppose you boys walk down with us,” said 
Mrs. Fisher, as she and her husband were about 
to depart. “We are going to call at the Collectors 
and bid good-bye to Grade.” 

“Why,” asked Pete looking greatly interested, 
“where is she going, Mrs. Fisher?” 

“Didn’t you know, Captain Pete?” she answered, 
“She is going to New York city to-night to spend 
a couple of years with Mrs. Wilton, Collector 
Hogan’s sister, for the purpose of finishing her 
education.” 

Pete distinctly felt his heart drop down, and 
strike his boot soles, but as he noticed that Tom 
was looking at him he pulled himself together with 
a tremendous effort. No one should know what 
a silly fool he was, he determined, and he said, 
distinctly enough : 

“No, I did not know she was going away. Yes, 
I should like to call with you.” 

Tom took his arm, and a few moments later they 
were entering the Hogan’s parlor. Mrs. Hogan 
and Grace were there, and very glad to see their 
visitors. 

“I heard you had come to the city,” said Grace, 
laying her slim hand in Pete’s hard brown one, 
“and was wondering whether you would let me 


152 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

go away for two years without saying good-bye.” 

“Indeed I would not, Miss Grace, if I had known 
it; but I just found it out a few moments ago from 
Mrs. Fisher. I am very sorry,” he added. 

Grace looked suddenly up, and caught his eye. 
He was gazing straight at her in his honest, stead- 
fast way. All in a second, she blushed to the tips 
of her tiny ears, and looking at him deprecatingly, 
fell back to her mother’s side. No one had noticed 
this little episode, but for some unaccountable 
reason, Grace, who had up to this time, treated 
Pete in a frank and almost patronizing way, now 
shunned him, although in a soft, appealing man- 
ner that robbed the action of offense. 

The jolly old Collector came in shortly, and 
greeted Pete with his usual cordiality. The Major 
had confided our hero’s plans to him that morning, 
and he was delighted, for he took an almost fatherly 
interest in the lad. He called him to his side, and 
talked to him kindly and seriously for some time, 
and made him promise he would pay him fre- 
quent visits, and ask his aid or advice whenever it 
was needed. The captain was greatly affected by 
his kindness, and he noticed too, with satisfaction, 
that Grace managed to overhear most of her father’s 
words to him, and seemed pleased at them. 

The party returned to the Fishers to dine, and 
in the evening Mr. Patton made his appearance. 
He was a tall, slender man, about forty years of 
age, and appeared to be in delicate health. He 


153 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

hailed from Connecticut, and had come West with 
the hope of improving his worldly fortunes, but be- 
ing married, and well provided for in the matter of 
children, and scantily supplied with other capital, 
he had made a failure of his first enterprise — a 
grocery store — and had been going down hill ever 
since. Being college-bred, however, he had begun 
to teach, and now had a number of scholars, and 
the money he so earned secured at least the neces- 
saries of life for his olive branches. 

Pete took a liking to him at once, and he, to 
whom the major had told our hero’s story, came 
predisposed to feel a warm interest in the ambitious 
fisher lad. The Major, Mr. Patton, and the boy 
held a long consultation, during which Pete under- 
went a cross-examination by his new teacher. It 
turned out that the boy was not so wofully deficient 
in the groundwork of education as had been an- 
ticipated. In fact, he read and wrote as well as 
the average schoolboy of his age, and he had a 
fair knowledge of elementary arithmetic. His 
geography, too, was first-rate, but in history, 
grammar, and other ordinary branches taught in 
the schools, he was entirely ignorant. He told the 
gentlemen that he had never attended school a day, 
and that all he knew had been patiently taught him 
by his father. It was, however, much better than 
Mr. Patton had expected; he thought they would 
get ahead rapidly and in a few months he could 
place Pete, if he were willing to apply himself 2 


154 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

where he could enter school on an equality with 
other lads of his age. He made out a list of text- 
books for Pete to get, and the first lesson was ap- 
pointed to be taken in the new quarters at ten the 
next morning. 

After Mr. Patton had departed, Pete announced 
that he thought he would go, and try his new bed, 
and Tom undertook to see him safe home. As the 
two boys walked along, Pete seemed rather taci- 
turn. After a bit, Tom turned to him with a mis- 
chievous grin, and broke the silence by remarking : 
“Never mind, Pete! She'll come back again." 

Pete looked up in great surprise, and answered: 

“Why, Tom, how could you know what I was 
thinking of?" 

The reader will observe that our hero took it for 
granted without any hesitation that there was only 
one “she" in the world. 

Tom looked demure, and answered: “Oh! I 
am a mind reader!" 

He accompanied this statement with another di- 
abolical grin, the flash of which Pete caught by the - 
light of a neighboring street lamp. He flushed 
warmly, and said: “Well, there is nothing to be 
ashamed of. She is a nice girl." 

“Of course she is," agreed Tom cordially, “and 
her father is a rich and influential man." 

“That's just what I was thinking, Tom," said 
Pete, with a burst of confidence, “I'm glad she is 
going away !" ^ 


i55 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Oh!” ejaculated Tom, taken aback by this re- 
mark, “I say, Pete, I didn't mean to hurt your feel- 
ings, you know?” 

“No, that's all right, Tom. I'd rather feel she 
couldn’t see me again for two years. Things may 
be changed by the time she gets back.” 

And giving this information to the astonished 
Tom to chew upon, the indomitable Pete entered his 
room, and bidding good-night to his friend, went 
to bed, and possibly to sleep. 


CHAPTER FIFTEEN 


W HETHER Captain Pete slept well, or ill, the 
night of Grace Hogan’s departure for New 
York city, he was up in the morning with the lark, 
and a half hour after daylight was sitting down to 
a substantial breakfast cooked with his own hands. 
After the meal was finished, he washed the dishes, 
put them neatly away, and swept the room, for he 
had not forgotten a broom among his purchases 
of the day before. He was a very good house- 
keeper, as his frontier training had taught him to 
do anything about the ranche that would make him 
useful. Perhaps his mother’s partiality partly 
arose from the fact that he was so ready and will- 
ing to assist her in the housework. 

It was still too early to go down town to pur- 
chase the text-books that Mr. Patton had desired 
him to have for the first lesson, so he went outside 
in the yard to enjoy the morning air. Here he 
found Mr. Brown, his landlord, in his shirt sleeves, 
smoking a pipe while the partner of his joys pre- 
pared breakfast. 

“Hello, sonny,” said he, “I see you’re up betimes. 
That’s right! always git to your work early, even 
if you ain’t got nothin’ to do.” 

156 


i57 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

And the old fellow laughed appreciatively at his 
own mild joke. He was sixty-five years old, and 
a pioneer on the coast. He had received enough 
money for the sale of a farm, taken up from the 
Government in the “fifties,” to keep him and his wife 
the balance of their days without labor, and had 
come to Port Townsend to live in what he called 
“solid comfort.” He was a sociable and jolly old 
chap, and Pete answered his greeting as cheer- 
fully as it was given. It soon turned out that he 
was a little curious, for his next remark was : 

“I see Major Fisher, the revenue man, and his 
wife, called on you yestiddy. Mighty fine people, 
them !” 

“Yes, indeed they are,” answered Pete. 

“Say?” was the old man’s next observation, 
“didn’t I hear the Major call you Captain Pete?” 

“I guess so.” 

“Wa’al! wa’al! now you ain’t that boy I read 
about in the Leader a couple of weeks ago, that 
captured Bill Kelley, an’ his gang, an’ seven China- 
men ?” 

“Yes,” responded Captain Pete, “at least I didn’t 
capture them, but I was with Major Fisher, and 
Lieutenant Higgins when they did.” 

“Do tell !” exclaimed the old man, with open eyes 
and mouth, and evidently refusing to accept the 
lad’s correction, “a little shaver like you! Hi! old 
woman!” and as in response to his call, she stuck 


158 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

her head out of the kitchen door, “it’s him, sure 
enough! He’s the boy that caught the smugglers 
in Dog-fish pass !” 

At this the old lady’s eyes and mouth opened 
too, and she came out entirely, carrying in her hand 
a frying-pan containing sizzling sausages, and 
gazed at Pete in wonder. 

“I declar !” she said, “an’ he ain’t bigger’n a pint 
o’ cider !” 

And she looked at the boy with increased amaze- 
ment in every feature. 

“But, my friends — ” disclaimed Pete, in some 
embarrassment, “all I did was to tell the revenue 
men about them, and they did the capturing.” 

“Oh!” said they both, as they tried to let this 
fact percolate through their brains, but the precon- 
ceived idea gathered from the newspaper article 
was too strong for them, and the old man exclaimed 
admiringly: “I bet you’re a sassy little cuss!” 

His wife nodded her head knowingly, as she 
added: “Oh! he’s a smart one!” 

Mr. Brown was thoroughly interested, and pro- 
pounded so many puzzling questions about the 
affair, that our hero was at last fain to beat a re- 
treat, saying that he had to go down town. The 
old man called to him when he was already out- 
side, the gate: 

“Wasn’t you afraid them cusses would shoot 
you?” 

Pete nodded, and hurried on to Water street, 


159 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

where he stopped at the postoffice, which was in a 
book store, to buy his books. While he was mak- 
ing his purchases, he noticed a bright-looking 
little fellow about ten years old, with a bundle 
of papers under his arm, was regarding him with 
unusual and concentrated attention. As Pete came 
out, carrying his books, this boy ranged alongside, 
and said : 

“You’re the fellow they call Cap’n Pete, ain’t 
you ?” 

“Oh Lord!” said Pete to himself, “here’s more 
of it!” so he replied shortly: “Yes, I am.” 

“You needn’t be huffy,” said the little fellow, 
“I’m Murph, the newsboy. Say! You’re all 
right !” 

“Glad you think so, Murph,” answered Pete, 
quickening his steps, “but I’ve got to go home 
now.” 

“Never mind! I’m going that way, too.” 

As he didn’t know which “that way” was, he 
laughed, and Pete, seeing the point, and liking the 
youngster’s face, could not help joining. He 
slackened his pace, and the two walked along to- 
gether. 

“So you’re coming here to live,” observed 
Murph. “I saw you with Tom Fisher. Say! He’s 
way up, ain’t he?” 

Pete acknowledged that Tom was, and then the 
newsboy resumed: “What are you going to do 
here?” 


160 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“I am going to study, and try to get an educa- 
tion.” 

“Cracky!” was Murph’s remark, “wouldn’t I 
like to do that! But my old woman’s a widder, 
and I have to hustle to keep the house going.” 

Pete looked at Murph with increased favor; 
“and how do you make out, Murph?” said he. 

“Oh! pretty fair! between the Seattle and Frisco 
papers, and the Leader, and an odd job now and 
then, I knock out five or six dollars every week.” 

Pete did not entirely understand this statement, 
having had no experience in the newspaper line, 
and his new friend explained that he sold the 
Leader, which was the local daily, every morning 
from the time it came off the press until eight 
o’clock, when the boat came in with the Seattle 
papers, which were larger, and gave more news at 
the same price as the Leader. Then he began on 
these, and managed to get rid of a good many. As 
he bought the papers for two cents apiece, and sold 
them for a nickel, which was the smallest coin then 
in circulation in the Northwest, he did very well. 
He also handled the San Francisco journals which 
came in two and a half days old. Captain Pete 
was greatly interested in all this, and made up his 
mind that Murph was “no slouch.” By the time he 
had got the whole story he had arrived at his 
room. He took Murph in, and showed him how “he 
had rigged himself out for housekeeping” as he ex- 
pressed it. It delighted Murph, who exclaimed: 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 161 

“Say! Ain't this bully! You must have made a 
pile off them smugglers to live like this!” 

As it was now pretty near time for Mr. Patton's 
appearance, Pete dismissed Murph, telling him to 
come and see him again, which the latter promised 
to do. 

The first lesson passed over very pleasantly. 
Mr. Patton, although he did not say so in words, 
was delighted with Pete's intelligence, and way of 
taking hold, while the boy was no less impressed 
and pleased with Mr. Patton's methods of instruc- 
tion. In short, Captain Pete's experiment prom- 
ised exceedingly well. 

At noon, while Pete was cooking a piece of beef 
steak, and making some coffee for his dinner, there 
was a knock on the door, and in came Tom Fisher, 
on his way home from High School. It was only 
a few blocks distant, and Tom ran home in the 
middle of the day for lunch. He had dropped in to 
tell Pete that he would come around after school to 
take him for a walk. Pete gladly agreed, saying 
with a somewhat important air, that he had to 
study until then. He also told him about his meet- 
ing with Murph that morning. 

“Oh, yes!” said Tom, “I have seen him, and 
heard about him. He's a good little fellow, if he 
does peddle newspapers,” he added somewhat con- 
descendingly. 

Pete looked, and was inclined to feel rather un- 
comfortable at Tom's tone, but as his custom was, 


1 6 2 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

he faced the situation: “Why, he’s just as good 
as I am, Tom!” said he. 

Tom, who was naturally a bit aristocratic — al- 
though he was far from being a snob — saw at once 
that he had unintentionally trodden on Pete’s toes, 
so he answered, like the warmhearted and sensible 
boy he was: “Yes, Pete, he’s just as good as you 
are, and you’re just as good as he. And you are 
both just as good as I am. One person is just as 
good as another in this world, if he’s equally honest 
and respectable. Some may be greater, if they are 
smarter, or harder working, I suppose, but they’re 
no better, after all. Murph is all right! He sup- 
ports his mother, and is as straight as a gun bar- 
rel, and will make a mighty good man one of these 
days, just as you and I are going to.” 

This speech touched Captain Pete; he shook 
Tom’s hand and, said: “Tom, you’re a mighty 
good fellow, any way, and I’m lucky to have you 
for a friend.” 

“Oh, gooseberries!” exclaimed Tom, “I’m off 
home! Be ready at four.” 

“Gooseberries” was a new interjection to Pete, 
but he puzzled it out to mean about the same as 
“Rats.” He got out his books and was so much 
interested that it was four o’clock before he knew 
it. He put on his cap, and was going out to watch 
for Tom, when he took the precaution to glance 
through the window, and saw Mr. Brown, evi- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 163 

dently on the lookout for him, and chockful of ques- 
tions. He decided to wait inside for Tom, and 
under cover of his company, escape the old man’s 
curiosity. It was not long before his friend turned 
up, and the two made a successful sally, and got 
past the enemy before he had a chance to bring his 
artillery to bear. 

After walking about half an hour, they chanced 
to bring up in the neighborhood of the custom 
house, and Tom said: “Let’s go in, and see the 
Collector.” 

“All right, if you think he won’t mind,” said 
Pete. 

“He’ll be glad to see us,” Tom assured him. 

And so he was, for he hailed them through the 
open door of his private office, as they came into 
the outer room : 

“Hallo! you two young rascals, come in here. 
How did the studies go to-day, Pete ?” 

“First-rate sir. I’ve been at it all day until four 
o’clock.” 

“Well, that’s brave!” then he twisted his swing 
chair around, and pointed to a puppy dog that was 
inquisitively poking a black nose from under a 
neighboring desk, “what do you think of that fel- 
low, boys?” 

It was a fine mastiff puppy, about two months 
old, as the lads found when they pulled him out, 
which they did after some mock-defiant remon- 


164 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

strances on his part. “Why, he’s a perfect 
beauty !” exclaimed Pete, who was passionately 
fond of animals. 

“Do you think you could afford to feed him, 
Captain Pete?” 

“I?” said Pete. 

“Because you can take him, if you want him, 
and if he is too expensive, you can bring him 
around to my house to get his meals. The cap- 
tain of a ship gave him to me to-day, and said he 
was thoroughbred, and worth fifty dollars, though 
I dare say that was all in his eye. Do you want 
him ?” 

“Of course, he’s splendid!” answered Pete, in 
ecstasies. 

The puppy was really out of one of the best ken- 
nels of England, and very valuable. The Collector 
knew this perfectly well, though he purposely made 
light of it in order not to embarrass Pete by a sense 
of obligation. The boys were handling the dog, 
and discussing his merits with delighted animation, 
when Mr. Hogan said : 

“Now take that Kiyi, and get out of here. Come 
in again, boys, and see the old man,” he added 
kindly, as he turned to his writing. 

Pete stopped on his way home, and invested in 
a collar and chain for his new acquisition, of whom 
Tom — who pretended to be knowing on dogs — pre- 
dicted great things when he came to the full estate 
of doghood. In the meantime, the little fellow 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 165 

trotted along behind them contentedly enough, al- 
though he made an occasional dash between his 
new master’s legs, and nearly upset him. Before 
Pete ate his supper he built a house for the puppy, 
which he placed by the entrance door to his room. 

The question of a name for the dog came up that 
evening at Major Fisher’s, and various sugges- 
tions were made. Tom advocated calling him 
Tyee after the sloop, but the suggestion did not 
strike the rest as particularly brilliant. Mrs. 
Fisher thought Captain would be an appropriate 
appellation, but here Tom got even by showing 
conclusively that the name would be apt to create 
confusion, and breed dissension between the dog 
and his master. At last the Major said : 

“Why don’t you call him Dope, Pete? Dope 
seems to have had a good deal to do with your for- 
tunes lately, and if it hadn’t been for it, the Collec- 
tor would never have been so good a friend of yours, 
and given you the dog.” 

This happy hint was received by all, including 
the owner of the dog, with acclamation, and Dope 
was formally adopted as the puppy’s name. 

“Say, Pete!” said Tom, a few moments later, 
“can you box?” 

“Box what?” asked Pete, vaguely. 

The major looked up from his book, while Tom 
explained. 

“I mean spar — with the boxing gloves.” 

“Oh, no ! I never even saw a pair.” 


1 66 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“You are just as well off, I think,” remarked 
Mrs. Fisher. 

“Now Lydia,” began the major, “for once in 
my life, I distinctly disagree with you. I think a 
knowledge of boxing is a very good thing for a 
man, or a boy. In the first place, the exercise is 
particularly good, and then knowing one can de- 
fend one’s self with one’s hands gives confidence, 
and often renders recourse to a weapon unneces- 
sary. I have often been glad I was taught to box 
as a boy.” 

His wife gave a sigh of consent, and said: “No 
doubt you are right, dear, but I don’t see why men 
cannot get along without fighting.” 

“It would be pleasanter if they could, my love, 
but as, for many obvious reasons, they cannot, it 
is just as well that our boys should be able to pro- 
tect themselves, and give as good as they get.” 

At this encouragement, Tom resumed: “Well, 
what I was going to say, Pete, was that I have got 
a set of gloves, and I will bring them up to your 
room to-morrow.” 

“And you had better look out, Pete,” warned 
the major, “for this boy handles himself very well 
for a youngster.” 

Pete grinned, and replied: “Oh! I’ll stand 
him off somehow, sir.” 

“That’s right,” said the major, “you’ll be well 
matched after you get some practice, and you 
ought to have a good deal of fun at it.” 


CHAPTER SIXTEEN 


*^/^APTAIN PETE,” said Major Fisher, one 
morning, “here’s something that belongs 
to you.” 

The major had stopped in at Pete’s room on his 
way down town. The latter picked up the long 
envelope his friend had tossed on the table in front 
of him, and opened it. The enclosure was a duly 
engrossed deed certifying to his ownership of 
thirty acres of land on Hidalgo island. 

“You’re a landed proprietor, now, Pete, and by 
the way it’s lucky we got that land when we did, for 
I found that another man — who seems to have some 
inkling of our knowledge — was after it, and will- 
ing to pay more money than we did. But I had 
the bargain closed when he came along, and Mr. 
Monks, who owned the land, could not back out, 
tho’ he would have liked to very much, I suspect. 
Have you any place to keep this deed ?” 

“No sir, only here.”. 

“Well then, I’ll take it down to the office, and 
keep it for you in my drawer of the safe. Good- 
bye.” 

“Good-bye sir, and thank you very much,” said 
Pete, as he sat down to his books again. 

167 


1 68 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Our hero was now getting thoroughly settled. 
His lessons were going on regularly, and he had 
been long enough in the city and in his room, to 
feel entirely at home. The Fishers were as kind 
to him as ever, and Tom managed to see him at 
least once a day. Collector Hogan, and his fam- 
ily had also given him many evidences of their 
friendly regard, and all in all, Pete had no reason 
to regret his move to Port Townsend so far. 

He had too much occupation to find time hang 
heavily on his hands, and passed most of his days 
happily studying, and training Dope, who by the 
way, was turning out an unusually intelligent dog. 
Pete had a natural turn for training animals, and 
under his care, the animal gave promise of becom- 
ing a highly educated canine. 

In the afternoons Tom Fisher often came along, 
and the two boys would clear the furniture out of 
the middle of the room, and take a turn at the 
gloves. Pete, who was both strong and quick, 
soon became so handy in the use of them that it 
kept Tom busy to maintain his superiority. At 
other times, the boys would take long walks on the 
beach, and on these occasions they often practiced 
shooting at a mark with the revolver Captain 
Kennedy had given Pete. At this sport Captain 
Pete beat his friend out of sight. He was now 
thoroughly familiar with the weapon, and rapidly 
becoming what he had boasted to Lieutenant 
Higgins that he would be — a dead shot. The 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 169 

“gun” he found to be a superb one, and all that the 
revenue officer had claimed for it. 

Occasionally Pete would wander down by the 
wharves alone, examining the shipping, and post- 
ing himself on the new rigs. One of these times, 
when he had been about two months in Port Town- 
send, he had an adventure which resulted in his 
making a new acquaintance. He was watching a 
large ship being unladen. The men were taking 
out the goods from the lower hold, and every few 
moments a great slingful of chests and boxes 
would come up from below, hover over the hatch 
a second, and then be veered off to the dock, where 
a man cast off the hook from the sling, and the 
huge fall would slacken down again, leaving the 
goods to be trucked to the warehouse. The hook- 
tender was a giant of a fellow with a good- 
natured, intelligent face that made Pete inclined 
to like him. 

Pete was standing on the outer timber just at 
the edge of the wharf, and it happened that by 
some miscalculation of the man who was attending 
to the winch, a slingful of goods was suddenly and 
unexpectedly lowered. The hooktender saw the 
avalanche of boxes coming, and stepped hastily 
back out of the way. In doing so, he unavoidably 
brushed against Captain Pete with some force. 
Pete stepped backward, and fell overboard be- 
tween the ship and the wharf. Luckily he did not 
strike either, but he made a great splash, and there 


170 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

was an instantaneous rush to his rescue by all tne 
men standing about. The hooktender, however, 
was quicker than any one, despite his size. He 
kicked off his shoes in a twinkle, and stood on the 
combing of the pier, ready to dive when Pete came 
to the surface. The boy was gasping a bit when he 
came up, for the water was cold and the immersion 
unexpected, but he was not a particle scared, and 
had all his wits about him, while he could swim 
like an otter. The first thing he saw was the big 
hooktender preparing to leap in the water to his 
aid, and he called out : 

“Don’t come down here. It’s wet.” 

A laugh went up from the crowd, now looking 
on, at the lad’s coolness, and in another minute the 
hooktender lowered a sling within his reach. 
This Pete seized directly, and was hoisted to the 
dock with dripping clothes, but none the worse 
otherwise. There was a fire in the office of the 
freight shed, and the big man hurried him in there, 
leaving another hand to take his place at the sling. 

“You’re a mighty well-plucked young one,” 
said the hooktender as Pete was warming himself, 
“I was scared out of a year’s growth when I heard 
the splash, and knew I’d knocked you over. I’m 
terrible sorry, but I had to move quick to get out 
of the way of them boxes.” 

“Why, it wasn’t your fault,” answered Pete, 
“and it don’t amount to anything, anyway. I’ll be 
all right as soon as I’m dry.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 171 

“You wrap my overcoat around you, and go 
home, and change your clothes/' said the big man. 

Captain Pete felt this was good advice, but 
asked: “Won't you need it?" 

“No, I'll come up, and get it to-night. Where 
do you live?" 

Pete told him, and started for home, and very 
glad he was of the coat before he got there, for the 
wind blowing on his wet clothing was bitterly cold. 

That evening as Pete was sitting before the fire, 
the longshoreman came for his coat. Pete asked 
him in, and made him sit down, thanking him 
warmly for his kindness. 

“Oh! it ain't nothing," said the great, rough 
fellow, “but say, I found out after you left the dock 
that you was the boy that caught them smugglers, 
and I didn't wonder so much at your taking things 
cool. I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Cap- 
tain Pete, my name is Joe Hanlon." 

“Glad to meet you, although it was in an un- 
pleasant way, Mr. Hanlon." 

“Oh, call me Joe," said that worthy, “everybody 
does, and it don't seem natural to give my name a 
handle." 

The two had a long chat, and became very good 
friends. Joe told Pete that he was president of 
the local longshoreman's union, and interested him 
greatly by telling him some of the incidents of his 
career. It appeared that he was seaman on board 
a man-of-war some eight years before and hailed 


1 72 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

from Boston. But he had been discharged on the 
Pacific coast, and had hung around the Sound ever 
since. He told Pete that he inhabited a shack 
with two other men, in the upper end of the town. 
They all three “batched,” and lived like fighting 
cocks. He wound up with an invitation to Pete 
to come down the next night, and take supper with 
him, and get acquainted with his chums, “two as 
square chaps as ever worked alongshore.” 

Pete accepted the invitation unhesitatingly, and 
Joe went home, for he said he had to go to work 
the next morning at six o’clock. 

The next evening Pete went down to the wharf, 
and caught Joe just as he was knocking off work. 

“Hello, youngster, here you are on time, eh? 
Well, Pm ready, let’s start for home,” said the long- 
shoreman. 

They stopped at a butcher’s shop around the 
corner, and Joe bought five pounds of flank steaks, 
which he told Pete was the best meat on the beef, 
and explained as they continued their journey, that 
he and his mates took turns in doing the cooking, 
and that it happened to be his shift. 

Before Joe Hanlon, and his guest arrived at the 
shack, I may as well explain about it to my readers, 
for unless they live on Puget Sound it is very un- 
likely they ever saw one. 

Shack — derivation unknown, is a term that was, 
a few years ago, generally used in the North- 
west to describe an unmarried laborer’s habitation. 


173 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

In those days most of the workingmen were young 
fellows who had emigrated from other localities, 
drawn to Puget Sound by the prestige of boom 
times, and the high prices paid for manual labor. 
The climate is a most beneficent one, with no ex- 
tremes of heat or cold. Timber was plentiful, and 
so cheap as to be almost to be had for the asking. 
So such laborers built themselves primitive houses 
at little cost, and perching them on some un- 
occupied bit of ground, bade defiance to landlords, 
and had a home of their own, more or less com- 
fortable, according to their tastes and habits. 
Those laborers whose work confined them to the 
water front, made themselves rafts of huge logs — 
many of which drifted aimlessly around the Sound 
— to the detriment of navigation — or were cast up- 
on the shores by the tides. They built their 
houses on them, moving them along handy to 
where they were employed. 

It was one of these floating habitations that Joe 
and his mates lived in. It was connected with the 
shore by a long, limber plank, which “bucked” like 
an untamed cayuse to the tread of the uninitiated. 
When the inmates retired, they withdrew it, much 
in the manner that a drawbridge was raised in the 
olden time, and were safe from all but naval attacks. 

Such was the house that Pete was introduced to 
by the longshoreman. It had one capacious room, 
about twenty feet long by fourteen wide. There 
were three bunks along the wall, built on the 


174 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

principle of the berths in a ship’s forecastle, and in 
front of each was a seaman’s chest. A cook stove, 
a rough table, evidently of home manufacture, 
and two or three wooden benches made up the rest 
of the furniture. Two sturdy young fellows in 
woolen shirts and dungaree trousers, sat on one 
of the chests playing cribbage with a dingy pack 
of cards. 

“Well,” said Joe, as they entered, “here we are, 
right side up with care, and these are my mates, 
Con Miller, and Harry Prentice.” 

They both got up, and warmly shook hands with 
Pete. “How? Cap’n,” said Con, “we’ve both 
heard of you, and are glad to make your acquaint- 
ance. Besides, Joe says you’re a friend of his, and 
any friend of his Harry and I both tie to.” 

Harry added: “You bet your life that’s gos- 
pel.” 

Then Con said: “Joe, make the fire, you lazy 
old duffer, and give us something to eat. He’s al- 
ways hazing us, Cap’n, when it’s our turn to do the 
work, but when it’s his watch on deck, he ain’t so 
lively.” 

“You fellows might have got the fire going in- 
stead of playing crib if you had any respect for 
your betters,” grumbled Joe, as he set about his 
culinary duties. Despite his size, he was very 
active and alert, and in an astonishingly short 
time he had the steak sizzling in the pan, and 
potatoes and coffee boiling. Then he spread the 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 175 

table with two newspapers in lieu of cloth, and 
dished up everything redhot. 

“Supper ready !” he roared, “tumble up here, Con 
and Harry. Cap’n Pete, take that stool, and set 
alongside of me, so that I can see that you get 
enough to eat. Those fellows are always too busy 
at the table with their own jaws to have time to think 
of anybody else. Coffee, Cap’n?” 

He held the coffee pot over the quart tin beside 
Pete’s plate, and poured it out, strong and clear 
and fragrant. “There! Now take this,” he put 
a piece of steak, done to a turn, and weighing 
about a pound, on his plate, and added: “Now 
help yourself to spuds, and bread and butter.” 

The potatoes, or spuds, as Joe called them, were 
cracking open, and showing floury and white 
through their skins, and the bread and butter was 
equally good. Pete, who had a healthy boy’s 
appetite, fell to with a will. As soon as the others 
saw him fairly at work, they turned to themselves, 
and for a few minutes the rattle of forks and 
knives, and the working of their jaws over their 
victuals precluded all conversation. When the 
keen edge of his hunger was gone, Pete with a 
polite desire to show his host that his culinary ef- 
forts were appreciated, remarked: 

“I say, Joe! You’re a bang-up cook.” 

“Oh! that ain’t nothing,” answered he, mod- 
estly, “I ain’t got much to cook to-night.” 

“The old man ain’t no slouch, and that’s a fact,” 


i/6 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

observed Harry. “He kin cook all right. You 
ought to eat his baked beans, or one of his fish 
chowders. He didn’t come from Boston for 
nothing.” 

Here Con broke in: “Yes, the only trouble 
with him is that he’s too blessed lazy to do it often. 
We two poor orphans would starve half the time 
if we had to depend on him.” 

“Yes,” said Joe, beaming around on them with 
the coffee pot in his hand, “but you’re a pretty 
healthy pair of orphans, don’t you think, Captain 
Pete? They ought to put an advertisement in the 
Leader, and get somebody to adopt them. 
'They’re a precious pair of twins, and just alike for 
deviltry. If it wasn’t for me, I don’t know who’d 
keep them in order.” 

The two young fellows hooted at this last state- 
ment, and assured Pete that Joe himself was the 
only sporty one of the family. And so, with a 
running fire of jokes, the dishes were washed and 
put away. Just as this was finished, a light step 
was heard on the gang-plank, and a mischievous 
face peeped in the door, whose expression changed 
to wonder, as the owner cried: 

“Why Captain Pete, what are you doing here?” 

“Hallo, Murph!” was his reply, “Joe Hanlon 
asked me to supper. What are you doing here 
yourself ?” 

“Oh! Joe’s an old pard of mine. Ain’t you, 
Joe?” 


1 77 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“That’s what, youngster,” answered he. 
“We’re chums from Wayback. And what are 
you up to to-night? Have you had your supper?” 

“No. I just sold out my Examiners, and I 
thought I’d drop in, and say 'how do’ as I was 
going home.” 

As he explained, Joe shoved the coffee pot on 
the stove again, and put a plate, and knife and 
fork in front of Murph. He also got out a huge 
slab of steak that had been left, put down the bread 
and butter, and said briefly : “There ! Get on the 
outside of that.” 

“I’ll do it!” said Murph, “I ain’t very big, but 
I’m well dug out, and can hold considerable.” 

And he fell to, tooth and nail. They all laughed 
at his quaint way of accepting Joe’s hospitality. 
It was evident the newsboy was a prime favorite 
with all three of the longshoremen. 

While he was eating, Joe told him how he had be- 
come acquainted with Pete by knocking him into 
the Sound, and nearly drowning him. Murph ob- 
served : 

“Well, I’d rather get introduced some other way, 
but after all,” added he looking contemplatively at 
his empty dish, “it’s a mighty good thing to know 
Joe Hanlon.” 

Pete agreed with him, but observing the clock, 
and seeing it was past nine, bade good-night to his 
hosts, and he and Murph went off together. 


CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 


A FEW days after his dinner on the house 
boat with the longshoreman, Major Fisher 
brought Pete a letter from his father, which had 
come directed to his care. It ran as follows: 

Waldron Island, Nov. 28, 1888. 
My Dear Son , 

I got a letter from Major Fisher, as well as one 
from you, the other day, and as a neighbor is go- 
ing to East Sound to-morrow, I am writing to- 
night so he can mail my answer there. 

We are all well except your mother, who has 
caught a severe cold, and does not seem very 
strong. She feels your absence greatly, Pete, and 
often talks about you to me. When I got your 
letter, and the one from the major, she made me 
read them over to her again and again, until she 
knows them by heart. She is as proud as I am of 
the progress you appear to be making, and has 
completely changed her mind about your studying, 
and now wants you to stay as long as you can, and 
learn everything in sight. Even I am not more 
anxious for your advancement than she is. This is 
wonderful for an Indian to feel so, and only goes to 
show what a good mother she is. Never be 
ashamed of her, Pete. 

178 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 179 

I shot a deer day before yesterday, in the timber, 
about two hundred yards from the house, and have 
got three coons, and a wild cat this month. The 
cat was a very big one, and I am tanning the hide 
with the hair on, and will send it to you when I get 
a chance, to make a present to Mrs. Fisher on 
Christmas. Your mother has also made two pair 
of moccasins from the hide of the buck we killed 
when Mr. Tom Fisher was here. I’ll send them 
too, and you may give him a pair if you like. 

There was an insurance man from Seattle visit- 
ing our neighbor, Mr. Thomas, last week, and I 
took the chance to insure our house and barn for 
one thousand dollars, which is fully what they are 
worth. I shall feel easier now if any of Kelley’s 
or McGovern’s friends pay me a visit. 

I have had first-rate luck with the fishing, al- 
though I miss your help a good deal. I have 
smoked, and put up 800 boxes of herring, and shall 
take them to Victoria one of these days on the 
Tyee, and sell them. The old boat, which I am 
sure you want to hear about, is all right, and I put 
a fresh coat of paint on her this fall — black, with 
a red streak. This is about all that I have to tell 
you, so good-bye. Your mother, and brothers and 
sisters send love to you. Good-bye again, my son, 
be honest, and work hard. 

Your Affectionate Father, 

Edward Graignic. 


180 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

This letter delighted Pete, although he was in- 
clined to be disappointed that his father was going 
to take the herring to Victoria to sell, instead of 
Port Townsend, where he thought he might as 
well have brought them. 

In regard to that portion of the letter which 
spoke of his mother, he thought long and carefully, 
and was not at all certain that it was not his duty 
to interrupt his studies by going down to Waldron 
to pay her a visit, and cheer her up. So much did 
this matter weigh upon his mind that he finally re- 
ferred it to his friend Major Fisher, and read him 
the passage which moved him. The major 
pondered a few minutes before making any reply, 
but at last he said : 

“No, on the whole I do not think I would go, if 
I were you, Pete. In the first place, your father 
don’t say that your mother is really ill, and even if 
your visit did cheer her up, she would become as 
bad again when you returned here. Then, it 
would do you no good. You are going on so well 
now, and learning so rapidly, Mr. Patton says, 
that I feel it would be a pity to interrupt your stud- 
ies, and unsettle you, without adequate cause.” 

'Well sir,” said Pete, with a half-sigh, “I asked 
your advice, and now I have got it, I am going to 
take it. All the same, I am afraid I was selfish in 
coming here in the first place.” 

“Nonsense, Pete!” said the major, very decid- 
edly, “you were nothing of the sort. In fact, I be- 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 181 

lieve it was your duty to your father and mother to 
do just as you have done. When one gets a 
chance in this world he’s bound to take it. By 
the way, Pete, if I’m not too inquisitive, how does 
your bank account stand?” 

“I balanced it yesterday,” replied the lad 
promptly, hauling his deposit book out of his 
pocket. “You see, sir, I had a balance of $220, 
after I bought the Hidalgo land. Then Collector 
Hogan paid me $343 on the 14th of November, for 
my share of the Mike McGovern opium affair. 
That made $563 altogether. I have drawn $80, 
and have eight in my pocket.” 

“Seventy-two dollars in a little over two months, 
and that includes furnishing your room, which I 
suppose cost you fifty.” 

“$38.75 sir,” corrected Pete. 

“Well that is not doing at all badly. You are 
evidently fit to handle money, Pete. I am very 
well satisfied with you.” 

We must now hurry the reader over a number 
of months during which nothing occurred to dis- 
turb the even current of study and endeavor as it 
carried our hero along. 

It is in the month of August, that we take up 
the thread of our tale. Tom Fisher and Cap- 
tain Pete are again in the latter’s room in the after- 
noon. It is almost a year since our story opened, 
and it has been a momentous one for our hero. 


1 82 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

He has grown an inch, or so, in the first place, and 
has no longer the square, pony-built appearance 
that was noticeable when we first made his ac- 
quaintance. Perhaps his clothing had something 
to do with this, for he was carefully tho’ plainly 
attired, and now wore his “store clothes” with as 
much ease as Tom Fisher himself. His hands 
were hard, and still showed evidences of former 
toil, but they were white, and well cared for, while 
his face, from which the thick coating of tan had 
departed, was one that would attract attention any- 
where. He had the same expression of honest 
simplicity that had always characterized him, but 
his features were clear and refined. The firm 
mouth, well opened eye, and high forehead were 
stamped with a bright and pleasing individuality 
that was very prepossessing. Somewhat high cheek 
bones, and a clear, sallow skin were the only traces 
of his Indian origin. 

Mr. Patton said he had never come across a boy 
in whom perception and acuteness were so rarely 
allied with that quality of brain that gave mental 
energy and perseverance. His possession of 
these enviable gifts Pete had indeed fully proved, 
for he had skipped and danced over the lower 
levels of common school knowledge during the 
past year, and still was sucking in Scholarship 
with an avidity that promised to rapidly carry him 
past most youth of his age. 

Tom Fisher had also developed greatly in the 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 183 

line of his promise during the year, although of 
course, the change was not so marked as in the case 
of the former fisher lad. He, however, was as 
fine, capable, manly a young fellow as you would 
meet in a day’s travel. 

Major and Mrs. Fisher were so pleased with 
their protege that they thought almost as much of 
one boy as they did of the other. Mrs. Fisher, in 
fact, told Pete that she felt that she had two sons 
instead of one, and indeed if afifection and de- 
votedness could be substituted for the tie of blood, 
Pete would have been her own boy. 

Collector Hogan had continued to take as warm 
an interest in the lad as in the beginning, and Pete 
was perfectly at home in his house. The genial, 
and jolly old man’s health had lately broken very 
much, and he was unable to take as active a part in 
current events as had been his habit. 

In this general summary of the events of the past 
year we must not forget Captain Pete’s dog Dope. 
He had grown into a magnificent animal, weighing 
130 pounds, and was now lying at his master’s feet, 
pretending to be asleep, altho’ he raised his intelli- 
gent head at his least motion as much as to say, 
"do you want me?” Pete had trained him to do a 
great many remarkable things, as we shall see here- 
after, and among others, had taught him to pay 
absolutely no attention to any one but himself. 

Tom and Pete had been discussing their future 
plans, and the former had just remarked: 


184 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“I shall enter Stanford next fall. Father says 
that college breeding is to a man what the hall mark 
on silver is to forks and spoons/' 

“Well,” said Pete meditatively, “I feel that he is 
right, as usual, and there's nothing I should like 
better than to go with you. But I suppose it will 
be impossible for me to do so. To be sure, I think 
I could pass the examination, at least Mr. Patton 
says I could by that time, but my money won't go so 
far. This year has eaten a big hole in it, and I 
can't expect to get any more windfalls like those of 
Dog-fish pass, and Otter hole.” 

“Pete,” broke in Tom with some heat, “if you 
weren't so confoundedly stuck up, and obstinate 
about accepting anything from anybody, you know 
father would be glad to let you have the money you 
need.” 

“I can't help it, Tom. That's the way Pm built, 
and I won't sponge on my friends for anything I 
can get myself.” 

“But you can't get this yourself, you duffer.” 

“Well I can do without, and that's the next best 
thing. What do you think my dear old father 
wants to do? He wrote me the other day that he 
had four hundred dollars lying idle in the bank, and 
he wishes to turn it over to me, and have me use it 
on myself.” 

“He's a noble man, Pete! I've always admired 
his character. He's a regular old Roman for 
staunchness.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 185 

“That he is, Tom! And all the more reason I 
shouldn’t take his money away from him in his old 
age. Besides, I am beginning to think I’ll have no 
trouble in earning some kind of a living after my 
cash is all gone.” 

“To be sure you won’t. Why, I don’t know any 
fellow better fitted to get ahead in the world. But 
what are you going to start at? Have you made 
up your mind, Pete?” 

“No, I haven’t. I think I’ll study another year 
yet, anyhow. Searles of the Leader, offered to 
employ me as reporter on the paper, last week. I 
suppose on the strength of that sketch of the San 
Juan archipelago I wrote for him, but I don’t han- 
ker after a reporter’s career.” 

“Well, you’re right enough about that,” cordially 
agreed Tom; “it’s a dog’s life, and generally noth- 
ing at the end of it. But after all, Pete, it won’t 
make much difference what you tackle, you’ll make it 
win, you’re such a strong, patient, persevering old 
chap.” 

Captain Pete laughed as he pulled one of Dope’s 
silky ears, and answered: “Not much credit in 
that, old fellow, I’ve got to be. I wasn’t born with 
a silver spoon in my mouth, you know.” 

“You’ll get there, just the same,” asserted Tom 
stoutly, as he turned to go, “come around to-night, 
will you, Pete ? You know father has gone to Port- 
land on that forged certificate case, and mother and 
I are all alone.” 


186 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“I was going around to see the Collector to- 
night/' returned Pete, hesitatingly. 

“Why, he’s laid up with the gout. I heard it 
down in the office this morning. You can’t see 
him.” 

“Very well, in that case I’ll come.” 

Tom nodded, and sprang down the steps, leaving 
Pete alone. It was not for long, however, for 
shortly came a tap at the door, and a sturdy lad of 
about eleven years entered. Pete said with a smile : 

“Hallo, Murph, what good wind blows you 
along?” 

“Why,” said Murph, who was the same bright 
newsboy that we have met before, “I’ve been trying 
to see you all day, and it did seem as if I couldn’t 
get away. You know I’m working in Bernstein’s 
store now, in the daytime.” 

“No, I didn’t. Is it a good job, Murph?” 

“Helps out,” said Murph, concisely, “but never 
mind that, hold on till I tell you. You see I sell pea- 
nuts and candy at the Variety, and dance house 
nights. Well, what I want to tell you is this. Last 
night I was at the dance house as usual, and two 
fellows that have been hanging around the dives a 
week back were there. One of them is an Eng- 
lisher, and he goes by the name of Long Tom. The 
other is a nigger they call Black Sam. They were 
both pretty boozy, and sitting in one of the boxes 
talking. As I was tired and trade light, I set down 
in the one next to them, to rest. Then I heard them 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 187 

talking about making a trip to some chum of theirs 
named Strobel that lives in the Sucia islands. Sam 
seemed to know more about the place, and every- 
thing than Tom did. After a bit, he said, ‘Bill Kel- 
ley, and Mike McGovern, and Three-fingered Bill 
will be out in a few days !’ ” 

Here Captain Pete grew intensely interested. 

“Then he went on — and this is what brought me 
up to you, Pete — ‘that fellow Graignic I was talking 
about, that Kelley sent us word to roast out, lives 
not two hours’ pull from Strobel’s, altho’ it’s on 
Waldron. It would be fun to do his job while we’re 
laying low, and waiting for Bill and his chums!’ 
Then they called for another drink, and I skipped 
without their tumbling that I heard them.” 

Captain Pete was very much excited now, but he 
knew he must keep cool and think the matter out 
clearly. In order to do this, it was necessary to get 
rid of Murph. 

“Murph,” said he, “you’re a sharp little fellow, 
and a good friend of mine.” 

“You bet I am, every time!” answered the news- 
boy promptly. 

“Well, what you have told me is of great impor- 
tance, and I am much obliged to you.” Here Murph 
swelled visibly with mingled exultation and conse- 
quence. “Now,” continued Pete, “I want you to 
keep the run of these two chaps you call Black Sam, 
and Long Tom. Do you know where they are 
sleeping?” 


1 88 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“No, but Fll find out to-night, if they’re here yet.” 

“Do !” said Pete earnestly, “and if they are gone, 
let me know as soon as possible.” 

“I will. I’ll be on to them as soon as it’s dark. 
They won’t turn out till then. Good-bye.” 

And the little fellow was off to Bernstein’s gro- 
cery store like an arrow from a bow. 

“Now, let me see,” soliloquized Pete, “what all 
this means. In the first place, it looks pretty cer- 
tain that these chaps, who are of course pals of Bill 
Kelley, Three-fingered Bill, and my friend Mike 
McGovern, intend to pay a visit to Dad shortly, and 
burn him out. We’ll see about that!” and Pete un- 
consciously set his jaw very tight. “But what’s 
this about Kelley and his friends ! They were sent 
up for six years a piece, and are now serving time in 
the United States penitentiary on McNiel’s island. 
By George! they’ve some scheme to break out of 
prison, and they must be in communication, too, with 
their friends on the outside. This must be looked 
after. But Dad comes first ! and besides, I can send 
word to the warden of the penitentiary. I wish 
Major Fisher were here, or Captain Kennedy in 
town. But he’s in Victoria, and the Collector’s sick, 
too. What had I better do?” 

Pete walked the floor in perplexity, Dope follow- 
ing his motions with an intelligent eye, and giving 
an occasional thump on the floor with his tail, 
as much as to say, “if it’s anything I can help you 
out in, I’m here,” In fact, this expression showed 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 189 

in his face so plainly that Pete stopped, and patted 
his head, and said: “Yes, old fellow, I know it.” 

The boy decided finally that he could do nothing 
until he heard from Murph of the movements of 
Black Sam and his mate. When they left Port 
Townsend it would be time to look after his father's 
safety. Besides he knew that the old fisherman was 
unlikely to be taken unawares, and he smiled to 
think of what a warm reception the rascals would 
be apt to get if he were prepared for them. 


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 


A S Captain Pete stated in the last chapter, the 
United States Penitentiary was situated on Mc- 
Niel’s island, in Hale’s passage, between Fox and 
Anderson islands. McNiel’s is only six or seven 
miles long by as many broad, and lies directly op- 
posite the little town of Steilacoom, in Pierce county. 
In physical conformation it resembled the rest of 
the islands so thickly strewn in Puget Sound, be- 
ing generally bluffy on its shores, and containing 
much arable land in the interior. Being within 
twelve or fifteen miles of the prosperous city of 
Tacoma, and advertised by the penitentiary, it is 
well settled by small ranchers, mostly Swedes. 

The penitentiary, being an United States institu- 
tion, is only used for the incarceration of those 
criminals whose offenses are committed against the 
National Government, such as smugglers, counter- 
feiters, mail robbers, and the like. The result is 
to bring a particularly enterprising and reckless set 
of malefactors together. Then again, the prison’s 
expenses being defrayed by the United States, there 
is no attempt made to make it self-supporting, and 
the only labor exacted of the prisoners is that nec- 
essary to run the institution, and keep the 27 acres 
190 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 19 1 

of ground appertaining to it in some sort of order. 
In fact, even this is not obligatory upon the inmates, 
although it is the custom to deprive them of their 
tobacco if they do not turn out with the working 
gang. 

The “Pen” property lies along a precipitous shore 
on the northeast water front, beside a shallow salt 
water slough extending a short distance into the 
interior. On a plateau on the flank of the hill 
which rises to the northward of the slough, the 
penitentiary building stands length-wise to the 
water. It is constructed of handsome gray stone, 
and is 75 feet long by 35 wide, and 30 in height. 
It is Doric in architecture. 

A wooden annex is joined to the actual jail in the 
rear, and in this are the quarters of the warden, 
and his subordinates, usually four or five in number. 
Two rooms on the first floor are reserved for the 
warden and his head jailer. Each of these abuts 
on the corridor of the jail, into which opens an 
iron-grated window, so that in case of disturbance 
inside, a man with a Winchester rifle at one of 
these windows would be able to rake the passages 
from end to end, and place the rebels in an unen- 
viable position if they did not return to their cells. 

The interior of the jail proper only remains to 
be described. The cells occupy the middle of the 
great building, and are two tiers high. A wide 
corridor extending around the whole structure of 
course encircles the cells. In this corridor — com- 


192 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

manded as has been described by the warden’s and 
head jailer’s windows — the prisoners live, and eat 
in the daytime, while at night they are securely 
locked in the steel cells. The corridors are fur- 
nished with a large wood stove, and heavy rough 
tables on which the convicts eat, or pursue such 
avocations as they can find to occupy their time or 
for entertainment. 

It was the 15th day of August, two days later 
than when Pete had his interview with Murph in 
Port Townsend. The morning sun glinted through 
the gratings of the windows of the eastern corridor 
of McNiel’s jail, and made shifting arabesques on 
the striped clothing of three men who sat with 
their heads together at the end of the table farthest 
from the open window of the warden’s room. 
There were a number of the other prisoners sprawl- 
ing about, but they did not come near, or disturb 
this group. It was evident to the keen observer, 
that this isolation was not casual, but the result 
of premeditation. It was not surprising, after all, 
for three more unprepossessing faces it would be 
difficult to find than those in question. 

They were in fact, Bill Kelley, the king of Puget 
Sound smugglers, and his two pals, Mike, and 
Three-fingered Bill, and we find them in the midst 
of a very interesting conversation. Kelley was 
the speaker: 

“Boys !” he said, “I’ve been laid by the heels here 
just as long as I am going to stay. If you haven’t 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 193 

got the hearts of chickens inside you, to-day will 
be our last in this crib.” 

“I’m game for anything,” answered the man 
with the missing fingers, “but it ain’t no fun to 
have a Winchester ball plumped into you.” 

Mike McGovern evidently endorsed this last re- 
mark, and Kelly saw it and it roused his temper: 

“You fellows are as timid as sheep !” he exclaimed. 
“Now here’s what I’m going to do, and you can 
join me, or let it alone, as you please. To-morrow 
afternoon the working gang will be clearing up the 
underbrush by the timber in the far lot. I heard 
Chisholm say so this morning. He and old Traf- 
ton will be the only two guards. I’m going to slip 
out, and make a dash for liberty. If I can get to 
the bush, I can lie hidden till I get a chance to get 
ofif the island. Then it won’t be long, you bet, be- 
fore I’m on the other side, in British Columbia.” 

Now Mike spoke soothingly to Bill: “Well, 
don’t be hostile. It looks good, Bill, if you’re sure 
we work in the lot you say, and Trafton and Chis- 
holm is the guards. The old man couldn’t hit the 
side of a ship in a thousand years, and somehow 
I don’t think Chisholm has got the nerve to shoot 
to kill. I believe it’s wuth trying.” 

“If you two say so, it goes !” was Three-fingered 
Bill’s remark. 

Gaining his companions over to his scheme in 
this unexpected way mollified Kelley, and he now 
condescended to show his fangs in a wolf-like grin ; 


194 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“I thought there was stuff in you, if I could only 
get it out. Now I will tell you more. There's a 
boat ready that'll take us off the island. I was 
posted on this by Black Sam, in the county jail, 
and have got word since. He has fixed a rancher 
named Dewitt, who lives on the shore due west, 
bearing from the pen. Dewitt will give us grub, 
and clothes. He lives right by Mosquito pass, and 
from his house, it ain't a quarter of a mile across 
to the mainland." 

The faces of the two others became still more 
cheerful, and they exclaimed simultaneously : 

“' We’ll try it!" 

“All right," said Kelley, “mum's the word, and 
don't let these other chaps suspect our plans, or 
we'll have the whole crowd after us, and too many 
cooks spoil the broth." 

The next morning as the steamer Multnomah 
hove in sight from Tacoma bound for Olympia, 
she steered in towards the penitentiary, and 
whistled, indicating that there was a passenger who 
desired to disembark. Warden Bamber, an up- 
right, soldierly man of fifty years, was standing on 
the bluff, and he immediately gave orders for an 
old “trusty," named Barret, detailed for such serv- 
ice, to go out in the rowboat. Shortly he re- 
turned, and with him a sprightly lad of eleven 
years, none other, in fact, than our friend Murph. 
He came briskly up to Warden Bamber, and touched 
his cap: 


195 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Are you the warden, sir ?” asked he. 

“Yes, my lad,” returned he, “what do you want 
with me?” 

“Here’s my crodenshials,” said Murph, with dig- 
nity, handing the official a letter. 

Mr. Bamber took it with some surprise, and 
tore it open. It read as follows: 

Port Townsend, Wash., August 14th, 18 — . 
Warden Bamber , 

Dear Sir: I send the bearer, Murph, a Port 
Townsend newsboy, to warn you of a plot that Bill 
Kelley, Mike McGovern, and Three-fingered Bill 
have made to break out of prison. He will relate 
particulars himself, and is trustworthy. Any of 
the custom house people will tell you who I am, 
if you don’t know. 

In haste, 

Captain Pete Graignic. 

“Why,” said the warden to himself, “that’s the 
boy thro’ whom these three chaps were captured. 
How did Captain Pete come to send you here, 
Murph?” 

“Why,” replied Murph, “he was in an awful 
hurry, and told me to tell you that Major Fisher, 
and Captain Kennedy being both absent from Port 
Townsend, and Collector Hogan being sick, and his 
not knowing anybody else well enough to talk to 
much, he thought he’d send me to you. And he 
paid my fare.” 


196 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Well, what is it?” said the warden, “tell me all 
you know about it.” 

On this Murph told the whole story of how he 
had heard Long Tom, and Black Sam talking in 
the dance house. Mr. Bamber listened attentively, 
and let him relate it in his own way, not interrupt- 
ing him until he was finished. Then he stood a 
moment, and thought. The whole affair was a queer 
one, and entirely out of routine, but he was an 
alert, intelligent man, and did not doubt for a mo- 
ment that the story was all right, although it did 
come to him from such an irregular source. He 
made up his mind on the spot to accept the infor- 
mation as true, and act on it. So he said to the 
boy messenger: 

“You’re a brick, Murph, and Captain Pete’s an- 
other. I’ll look after Kelley, and his friends. 
Now you can’t go back again until the boat comes 
down to-morrow, and in the meantime you’re my 
guest. Let’s go up to the house, and you needn’t 
tell any one what your business is.” 

“No, sir,” answered Murph, “I won’t.” 

The warden took the boy up, and introduced him 
to the guards, telling them that he was the son of 
a friend of his in Port Townsend. Then instruct- 
ing Murph to make himself comfortable, and not 
be out of the way when the dinner bell rang, he 
went into his own private room to think over the 
information he had received. The truth of the mat- 
ter was that it worried him considerably, for he had 


197 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

long before had Kelley and his two mates marked 
down in his mind as men that needed more looking 
after than the balance of his flock of lambs, and 
Murph’s information implied that they had suc- 
ceeded in establishing a method of communication 
with parties outside of the jail. Otherwise how 
could Black Sam know that they were going to 
make an attempt to escape. This method could 
not be through letters sent in the usual manner, as 
such missives passed through his hands, and were 
examined by him before being forwarded to their 
destination. Where was the leak? 

The warden’s mind passed in review all the 
visitors to the prison in the last half year, who 
would be apt to try to communicate with the con- 
victs, and finally he gave a start, and murmured: 
“Could it be Dewitt?” 

To get a clew to the warden’s reflections it is 
necessary to explain that, at that time, McNiel’s 
island had no post office, so that it was customary 
for all the mail — both for the penitentiary, and the 
ranchers on the island — to be forwarded to Steila- 
coom, the neighboring town on the mainland. The 
warden sent a boat there every other day, and it 
was his habit to have all the mail brought over, 
and then the ranchers came to the “pen,” and got it, 
and were very thankful for the accommodation. 

The warden now remembered that Dewitt — 
whom the reader has already heard of through 
Kelley — was very assiduous in coming for his 


198 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

letters, tho' he seldom received any. It also re- 
curred to him now that this man always came be- 
fore the hour for locking up the prisoners. These 
things, although they did not in themselves con- 
stitute grounds for suspicion, were still unusual, 
and worth considering in the absence of other clues. 

The result of the warden's cogitation was that 
he went down to the stable, and saddled his horse. 
Leaving word that he would be back by dinner 
time, he directed his way over a trail through the 
woods until he came out on a knoll overlooking 
Mosquito pass, on the other side of the island. Be- 
low him was a one-story house of three rooms. In 
front of this habitation was a little cove locally 
known as Floyd's bay. On the southern side of 
this bay, which was really a part of Mosquito pass, 
the waters of the Sound narrowed until at one 
point McNiel's island, and the mainland were not a 
quarter of a mile apart. In the middle, or almost 
in the middle of this narrow strip of water stood 
a little island containing about three acres. From 
where the warden stood he could distinctly see De- 
witt’s house, which was perched on the high bank 
directly fronting the narrowest part of the pass. 
A rude wooden stairway led down from the front 
of the house to the water's edge, and a couple of 
boats were moored at the foot of the steps. 

“You are well situated to help convicts off the 
island, any way, Mr. Dewitt," muttered Warden 
Bamber, as his comprehensive glance took in these 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 199 

things. Then he added as a tall, gaunt figure came 
out of the house first mentioned : “But there’s Joe 
Floyd. He’s true blue, and not afraid of man or 
devil. I must talk with him.” 

He shook his bridle rein, and trotted briskly down 
to intercept the man he had spoken so highly of. 
The latter had a bucket in either hand, and was 
evidently going somewhere for water. They met 
at a point about a hundred yards from the house, 
where the trails crossed. 

“Why don’t you dig a well nearer your house, 
Joe?” asked the warden in a bantering tone. 

“Why,” exclaimed Joe, with an air of great sur- 
prise, “ain’t you never seen my spring, Warden? 
Jest hitch yer critter, an’ come erlong with me 
fifty yards, an’ I’ll show you why I ain’t never dug 
no well.” 

“I’ll go you,” said the warden, as he threw his 
bridle over a convenient limb, and followed the 
rancher, who could now be seen to be a man of 
great stature and strength, still in the prime of life, 
and with a face full of character. A moment’s 
walk brought the wayfarers to a spot where the 
hill suddenly rose before them. Here it seemed 
as if some brobdignagian shovel had, in former 
times, scooped out a space in the bank twenty feet 
deep, and thirty wide, and afterwards smoothed the 
outlines into harmony until the most beautiful syl- 
van amphitheater conceivable was the result. In 
the center of the background gushed from a hole 


200 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

in the hill a stream of cold, clear water as thick 
as a man’s thigh. This rippled down twenty feet, 
and formed a circular pool six feet in diameter, 
from which it overflowed again, and gurgled down 
a channel made several feet deep by its own im- 
petuosity, until it finally struck a gulch further 
along, and sped away to the salt water. 

“There!” said Joe, pointing to the spring with 
a dramatic gesture of his long arm, the effective- 
ness of which was somewhat lessened by the 14- 
quart pail that hung at the end, “There’s a well 
that God made! And I reckon it’s good enough 
fer — fer — even Henry Watterson.” 

The warden smiled. He knew that Joe was a 
hide-bound democrat, and that the famous editor 
of the Courier- Journal was his ideal of manhood, 
but nevertheless he was much impressed with the 
beauty of the spot. There was a rude bench by 
the pool, evidently shaped by the ready axe of the 
woodsman. Mr. Bamber sat down here, while 
Joe filled a dipper with the crystal liquid, and 
fetched it to him. Then he took a seat. 

“Joe,” said the warden, whose head was full of 
one idea, “what kind of a man is Dewitt?” 

Joe flashed a shrewd, penetrating glance at his 
questioner, and then answered drily: 

“About five foot, nine, and light complected.” 

“Quit your fooling, Joe,” returned Mr. Bamber. 
“I mean of course what kind of a character has he? 


201 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

I’m serious, and have my reasons for asking. In 
fact, that's what brought me over here." 

“Wa'al," drawled Joe, “I ain't much of a hand 
fer talkin' erbout my neighbors. What be you driv- 
in’ at? What do you want ter know fer?" 

“Look here, Joe Floyd," answered Bamber, “you 
know me, and I know you. And we're both square 
men, ain't we? Well, I think it possible Dewitt 
has been passing word through to some of my 
lambs. I wouldn't trust everybody, but I have no 
hesitation in letting you in the secret. Now tell 
me what you know!" 


CHAPTER NINETEEN 


T OE looked hard at the warden, and the warden 
^ gazed fixedly at him in return. Then the 
rancher put his right foot over his left knee, and 
regarded intently his somewhat worn shoe. Mr. 
Bamber waited patiently, for he knew Joe’s quaint 
ways, and that when he did speak in earnest, it was 
generally to some purpose. 

“Wa’al, Warden,” he drawled at last, “you air 
kerect. You air a square man, an’ so be I, an’ — 
Dewitt’s a darn skunk, an’ that’s a dead t open an’ 
shet fact. I allow you’re barkin’ up the right sap- 
lin’ this time. This yer Dewitt has got too many 
friend's that come ter see him in rowboats, an’ thet 
no one in these parts knows. An’ ter tell yer 
straight, warden, they air a tough lookin’ crowd, 
an’ I shud nacherly just hate ter leave anything 
vallyble lyin’ aroun’ where they cud pick it up.” 

“Ah, ha !” observed the warden, “he has visitors 
of that stripe, does he ?” 

“Ya’as,” continued Joe, “an’ he goes up ter town 
putty often, an’ so fur ez I’ve seen he lives putty 
high fer a rancher thet ain’t got but an acre of 
ground cleared, an’ only keeps a dozen hens. Why, 
when the tradin’ boat comes aroun’ he alius pays 
202 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 203 

cash, an’ buys a sight more goods than any rancher 
this side of ther island.” 

“All this you tell me corroborates my suspicions, 
Joe,” said the warden, “but is there nothing else?” 

“No, ’cept that he alius has plenty of whiskey on 
hand, an* thet he an’ his visitors have high old 
sprees sometimes. I kin hear them over here of 
a still night. There are two rum lookin’ chaps thar 
now, that came up yesterday in a black boat — an 
almighty good one too, fer either sailin’ or pullin’.” 

This last information made Mr. Bamber start. 

“Why, Joe!” exclaimed he, “I just got word to- 
day from an outside source that three of my worst 
men, Bill Kelley, Mike McGovern, and Three-fin- 
gered Bill, were expected to escape within a day or 
two. Suppose those two fellows who are visiting 
Dewitt are here to help them off !” 

“I shudn’t wonder but what you’re right, Mr. 
Bamber,” remarked Joe, meditatively scratching his 
head. “In fact, it DO look thet way.” Then he 
scratched his leg by way of inspiration, while his 
long, thin face took on a look of concentration and 
power that would have surprised those that did not 
know him well. The drawl had now entirely dis- 
appeared from his voice. When he spoke again, 
it was in the sharp, decisive accents of a man of 
action. “Tell me, Warden, you might as well let 
me know all as a part of this business. What did 
yer hear? An’ how did yer hear it? I know’d 
all of these gallus birds when I lived on the Samish 


204 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

slough. They hung around Kelley’s ranche on 
Guemes island.” 

Mr. Bamber without any hesitation read him 
Pete’s note, and related all that Murph had told 
him. When he was through Joe remained a mo- 
ment in deep thought. 

“Thet’s a cute kid,” remarked he finally. “The 
Sucia islands is where Black Sam an’ Long Tom is 
goin’ ter meet ’em. Wa’al, ef I was goin’ ter make 
sech a trip under sech sarcumstances, thet black boat 
at Dewitt’s wud do ther business in erbout sixty 
hours, an’ not mind a stiff breeze, or a bit of a sea, 
either. An’ Dewitt kin fit ’em out, too. He’s got a 
reglar arsenal thar, an’ like as not clothes ter take the 
place of the striped suits, an’ grub fer ther v’y’ge. 
Now, Mr. Bamber, you’d better go back ter ther 
pen, an’ keep yer eye skinned. An’ I tell yer, War- 
den, I reckon you cudn’t do better than ter let me 
know the earliest possible moment, ef these fellers 
do git away. I allow I’ll take a hand in ther game. 
I’ll kinder hang aroun’ ther house so ther messen- 
ger’ll ketch me.” 

“All right,” said Mr. Bamber, “if there’s an es- 
cape, the first move I’ll make will be to send Bert to 
you on the white pony. If you see him coming, 
you’ll know what’s up.” 

Joe nodded in token of comprehension, and re- 
joined: 

“You go that-a-way. I’m goin’ ter take this yer 
trail.” 


205 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

The warden understood that the astute Joe did 
not want to be seen with him, so he went back to his 
horse alone, and returned to the pen, feeling that 
he had enlisted a powerful ally, as well as confirmed 
his suspicions in regard to Dewitt. 

When Mr. Bamber arrived at the pen, he found 
that the dinner hour — which was necessarily ob- 
served without reference to him — was passed by a 
considerable period. His first action, however, af- 
ter putting his horse up, was to retire to his own 
room, and open the curtain a trifle to look through 
the grated window that commanded the southern 
corridor of the jail. Neither of the three men he 
had in mind were in sight. He hastily crossed the 
dining room to the jailer’s apartment on the other 
side, which overlooked the northern corridor. 

Neither Kelley, nor McGovern, nor Three-fin- 
gered Bill were here either. This surprised the 
warden, for these three men seldom joined the work- 
ing gang in the afternoon, the service being optional, 
and only performed usually by the more willing and 
docile prisoners. He returned to his room, and 
struck a hand gong that summoned the guard on 
duty in the house at the time. 

“What prisoners are in the working gang?” de- 
manded he abruptly of this individual. 

The man took out his book, and read off their 
names to his superior officer, and then, seeing that 
nothing more was required of him, retired. 

“So!” said Mr. Bamber to himself, “they are all 


206 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

there at work with the party clearing brush in the 
west field, with Chisholm and Trafton as guards. 
That’s unusual, and Chisholm and Trafton are not 
much good — and the west field is next to the heavy 
timber. I guess Pd better get something to eat, 
and go up there myself, and take a squint around.” 

By this time the table was set by Fuller, the house 
“trusty,” and the warden, hungry with his ride, 
was hard at work. As soon as he had finished, he 
went into his room again, where he took a heavy 
revolver from a drawer, and put it in the deep, side 
pocket of his sack coat. Then he started up the 
hill to the west field. 

His mind was considerably relieved to see the 
group of stripe-suited convicts working at the fur- 
ther end of the field under the supervision of the 
guards. But even as he gazed, there was a sudden 
commotion, and one of the guards raised his rifle 
to his shoulder. The sharp reports rang out in 
quick succession, but the warden saw that three fig- 
ures which separated from the other workers, and 
made a break for the heavy forest not fifty yards 
distant, had succeeded in reaching the shelter of 
the trees. By this time, the second guard, who had 
hitherto not fired, had his rifle up, and was pouring 
shot after shot in the direction of the fugitives. 
Mr. Bamber himself now arrived on the scene, and 
walking hastily to the latter, he threw up the muz- 
zle of his gun, saying sternly : 

“What is the use of wasting your ammunition 


207 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

now, Mr. Trafton? You should have been more 
watchful, and shot before the men reached the tim- 
ber. Now, look out for those who remain.” 

The rebuke was timely, for from the actions of 
the balance of the gang of prisoners, it was evident 
that there would have been a general bolt very 
shortly if the warden had not appeared and dom- 
inated the situation. 

“Fall in line !” his voice rang out like a bugle call. 

The prisoners instinctively started, and drew to- 
gether as well as the rough nature of the ground 
permitted. Then Mr. Bamber walked along in 
front of them. 

“As I expected!” muttered he, savagely, “those 
three are the missing ones. It was a put-up job. 
Well, now to do what we can to nab ’em.” 

He ordered the crestfallen guards to bring the 
rest of the convicts back to the jail, and hastily pre- 
ceded them himself. 

“Bert!” he sang out as he reached the prison 
yard. 

A youth of fifteen appeared, like a Jack-in-a-box, 
from one of the outbuildings. It was in truth the 
warden’s own son. 

“Yes, sir, here I am.” 

Mr. Bamber beckoned him to his side. “Bert,, 
my boy, slip a bridle on the white pony, jump on 
its back, and ride licketty-split across the island to 
Joe Floyd’s. Tell him I sent you to tell him 'they 
are off/ ” 


208 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Bert looked up for an explanation, but he saw 
from his father’s face that the matter admitted no 
delay, so like the sharp boy he was, he started for 
the stable on the keen run. As it happened, little 
Murph, the newsboy, had just come out of the laun- 
dry, and seeing Bert, whose acquaintance he had 
already — after the manner of boys — made, going 
somewhere in such a hurry, he cut after him at 
full speed. He reached the stable door as Bert 
came out with the pony, which was a spirited ca- 
yuse. 

“He’ll carry two,” said Murph, suggestively. 

“Hop on behind!” was Bert’s reply. 

The next moment the warden saw the pony with 
the two boys on his back a hundred yards away, 
and going like the wind in the direction of Joe 
Floyd’s. 

“I guess that errand will be well done,” he said 
with a smile as he went back to the prison to take 
what further measures he could for the recapture of 
the escaped convicts. 

The boys continued on the road about a mile, 
when Bert turned into an old logging trail that he 
knew would cut off half the distance. This was 
overlaid at short intervals with skids, and he was 
compelled to hold the pony in. Now for the first 
time the boys had an opportunity to talk, and Murph 
took advantage of it to ask a question. He had 
hitherto been occupied in holding on. 

“What’s up?” inquired he. 


209 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“I don't know/' answered Bert, “but Dad was in 
an awful hurry, and when he's like that it ain't 
healthy to stop and ask questions. He told me to 
tell Joe Floyd ‘they are off,' whatever that may 
mean." 

“Didn't you hear the shots?" queried Murph. 

“No !" answered Bert in great surprise. “What 
do you mean?" 

“Why, just before your dad came down the hill 
there were five or six rifle shots fired up there." 

“Jehosophat! I bet some of the prisoners have 
got away!" 

Murph thought so, too, and had a notion he could 
name them, but he remembered that the warden had 
warned him to say nothing about his mission, so he 
only observed : 

“Cricky! They may be right here in these 
woods ! What would you do if you met 'em, Bert ?" 

“I'd make this pony git up and dust," answered 
Bert with much honesty. 

“Well," said Murph rather doubtfully, “perhaps 
that would be the best way." 

They had reached a mirey spot, and were going 
slowly, the sagacious pony carefully picking his 
steps. Murph continued, after a moment's silence : 

“That ain't what Cap'n Pete would do, tho' !" 

“Who's Captain Pete ? And what would he do ?" 
asked Bert, in his clear boyish treble. 

At this moment a grouse flew up from the timber 
to the left, and immediately after an evil face peered 


210 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

from behind a tree — unseen, however, by the two 
lads — and listened for the reply. 

“He’s a boy I know in Port Townsend, and he’d 
capture them. That’s what he’d do! Didn’t you 
ever hear tell of Captain Pete Graignic, Bert ?” 

“Nio-p,” returned the other boy, evidently inter- 
ested, “but how would he capture them ?” 

“Oh! I don’t know,” responded Murph, airily, 
beginning to think he was talking too much, “he’d 
do it, somehow.” 

“He would, eh !” growled Kelley under his breath 
behind the tree. “That cussed young whelp had 
better look out for himself, now I’m loose again. 
I’ll wind up his clock for him as soon as I get a 
chance.” 

The boys now came to a better piece of road, and 
cantered on in ignorance. Soon they reached the 
hill above Joe Floyd’s shack, and as they passed over 
the brow of it, and began to descend, Bert saw that 
individual himself sitting in the shade of a tree near 
the house, and apparently engaged in cleaning his 
rifle. He looked up with a smile when the boys 
came along, for although his quick glance had noted 
them as soon as they were in sight, he did not move 
until they accosted him. 

“Wa’al, Bert, out fer a ride?” Then he hap- 
pened to look Murph full in the face, and he leaped 
to his feet with a quicker movement than his long 
limbs seemed capable of. “Why ! ef it ain’t Dennis 
Murphy !” 




“ DID N'T YOU EVER HEAR TELL OF CAPTAIN PETE GRAIGNIC, BERT?” 









































































211 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

At this unlooked for recognition Murph's face 
grew radiant, and he exclaimed 

“Well! It’s my Joe Floyd!” 

“So it is, my boy,” answered the rancher, with 
genuine pleasure in his face, “an’ how is yer 
mother ?” 

“First-rate, Mr. Floyd, and proud she'd be if she 
knew Fd seen you again.” 

“Wa’al, wa'al,” said Joe, “set down, boys. Bert, 
Dennis an' me is old friends. I knowed him when 
he warn't knee-high ter a jack rabbit. Before his 
father died.” 

“That's so!” corroborated Murph heartily, “and 
the good friend you were to my mother and me be- 
fore we lost the farm on the Samish Flats, and had 
to go to Port Townsend, bad 'cess to it.” 

At this point Bert recollected his message and 
broke in by saying : 

“Mr. Floyd, father told me to tell you 'they are 
off/ I don't know what it means.” 

“All right, Bert. Thet's what I sposed yer cum 
fer. I know what it means.” 

He swabbed his gun, which was a Winchester 
45-90, until it was dry; then he oiled it, and going 
into the house came out again with a box of cart- 
ridges, and began filling the magazine. 

“I may go huntin’ ter night,” he remarked to the 
attentive boys, “that's the reason I’m 'iling her up. 
When air yer goin' back, Dennis ?” 

“To-morrow, by the Multnomah, sir.” 


2 12 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Tell yer what, boys, I was jest goin’ ter cook 
supper. You both stay an’ eat with me, an’ then 
Bert kin go back an’ tell his father thet Murph 
bunked in with me ter night. How’ll thet suit yer, 
Dennis, my boy? I’ll take yer over in the mornin’ 
in time ter ketch ther boat.” 

“Bully,” said Murph concisely. 

And as it would be daylight until almost eight 
o’clock, it suited Bert, too. So the boys took the 
pony to the barn and Joe started supper going. 
This consisted of venison steak — for Joe most al- 
ways had deer meat on hand — hot biscuit and coffee. 
The boys acted as if they enjoyed the meal, and 
when they were through, Joe hurried Bert off. 

“For,” he said, “your Dad mout git narvous 
erbout you.” 

Before the warden’s son was out of sight Murph 
had decided to tell Joe all he knew and suspected 
about the matter of Bert’s message and its connec- 
tion with his own mission to the pen. He found, 
however, that Floyd already knew the facts, which 
of course he had gathered from the warden during 
their morning conversation, although at that time 
he had not identified Murph as an acquaintance. 

“Ya’as, Dennis,” he said, “you’re right. Them 
three smugglers has escaped, fer thet’s what the 
warden’s message meant. Ther reason I asked yer 
ter stay with me ter night was becos I had er notion 
yer might help me. Ye’re little, an’ spry, an’ smart, 
an’ I may need a boy of yer size, fer I’m goin’ ter try 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 213 

an’ stop them fellers from gittin' off McNiel’s 
island.” 

Nothing in the world could have delighted 
Murph' s heart more than to be employed on a job 
of this kind, and Joe saw that he had chosen a daunt- 
less and willing helper. He pointed out Dewitt's 
house to Murph, and told him the substance of his 
conversation with the warden in the morning. 

“Now,” he concluded, “what we've got ter do ez 
soon after dark ez possible, is ter git down ter De- 
witt's beach without nobody's seein' us, an' cut all 
his boats adrift. Thet's one place whar' you'll be 
er heap er help ter me, Dennis.” 

Murph fairly stammered in his assurances of wil- 
lingness, and the remaining two hours of daylight 
passed with dragging footsteps to the boy. At last 
the snow turned blue on the peaks of the distant 
Olympics and the lingering light faded out of the 
heavens. Then Joe arose, and taking up his rifle, 
said: 

“Come on, Dennis.” 

They passed down the hill to the water front, and 
the rancher, giving his rifle to Murph, said : 

“Hold on to thet, an’ wait a minute.” 

He plunged into the darkness without a sound. 
In a moment he returned, bearing something on his 
shoulder. It was a small Siwash canoe, narrow as 
a knife blade, and only fitted to carry two persons. 
He waded in the water as far as his knees, and set 
the boat carefully down. 


214 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Is yer hair parted in the middle?” asked he in 
low tones of the newsboy. “Becos ef it ain’t, you’ll 
upset this eggshell, Dennis. It’s a canoe I keep 
cached , an’ only use on speshil occasions.” 

He lifted Murph in and embarked himself with 
the careless skill of an Indian. 

“Now,” said he, “don’t speak above a whisper, fer 
sound travels fur on the water. I’m goin’ ter take 
yer ez clust ez I kin, an’ yer’ll hev ter wade till ye’re 
in front of Dewitt’s. Then cut ev’ry boat loose an’ 
shove it clear of the land. After thet come back an’ 
I’ll pick yer up.” 


CHAPTER TWENTY 

T OE dipped his paddle softly in the water, and the 
^ canoe started forward as smoothly and grace- 
fully as a wild duck. The paddler was an old hand 
at the business, and it is questionable if even a Si- 
wash could have handled the little craft more skill- 
fully. It did not take many of his powerful strokes 
to drive the canoe to the designated point, about a 
mile from where they started, and it was done with- 
out a sound save the slight ripple of the water as 
it was parted by the sharp prow. 

“Now, Dennis,” breathed Joe, reaching out his 
long arm to assist the boy. By the aid of his hand 
Murph arose and carefully stepped overboard. 
The water was about eighteen inches deep. 

“Down thar !” whispered Joe ; “keep erbout in this 
depth, an’ it’ll guide yer.” 

It was pitch dark under the bank where the boy 
and the canoe were, but out from the land the stars 
glittered on the water, and the obscurity was notr 
so profound. Murph had sharp eyes, and he man- 
aged to pilot himself along pretty well. It was 
hard work, for he did not dare lift his feet out of 
the water for fear of making a splash, which in the 
perfect stillness might be heard a long distance. 
215 


216 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

So he forced his way slowly along until he had gone 
a hundred yards or more. Once he nearly tumbled 
over a large boulder, and another time he just saved 
himself from stepping into a hole that seemed to be 
over his head. At last he saw a point in front of 
him where the water seemed blacker than usual. 
He reached it and found it to be a large boat. 
Placing his hand upon the gunwale, he guided him- 
self forward by it until he reached the bow. There 
he felt a chain which passed from a ringbolt in the 
foresheets over the bow into the water. As it was 
evidently fast to an anchor, Murph followed it along 
and finally found what he was after a little further 
inshore. It was a piece of railroad iron weighing 
about fifteen pounds, and shackled to the chain. 
The lad lifted it cautiously, and carrying it to the 
boat, put it in. The chain clinked slightly, but that 
was unavoidable, and after all, might have been pro- 
duced by the tide swinging the boat. About ten 
feet of the chain still hung over, however. Murph 
piled it in the boat gingerly, foot by foot, and finally 
it swung free. Then he shifted his grip along the 
gunwale again until he had hold of the stern, and 
gave it as hard a shove as he was able. He had the 
satisfaction of seeing it drift rapidly through Mos- 
quito Pass. “So far, it’s all right !” he thought, as 
he began to search around again, for Joe had told 
him there would be three boats. Presently he found 
another one, which was a much easier job to dis- 
pose of, for its anchor line was only a thin rope. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 217 

This he quickly cut adrift and sent flying after the 
first. 

Now he began his search for the third and final 
one of the flotilla. He found it closer inshore, and 
tied to the railing of a flight of wooden steps which 
led up the bank. Luckily the tide was rising, for 
this last craft had been aground five minutes before, 
and even now its bottom scarcely cleared the sand. 
As Murph drew his knife out of his pocket, and took 
hold of the painter, a voice from the top of the bank 
startled him so that he nearly dropped the knife. 
But he saw in a moment that it was somebody else 
that was being addressed, and though his heart 
beat hard, he softly severed the rope, determined at 
all events to do his duty, and obey Joe’s orders. 
As the last boat drifted silently down with the tide 
into the black shadows about the pass, the lad heard 
the voice say: 

“Dewitt, it’s so dark down below that I can’t see 
any of the boats. Do you suppose they’re all 
right ?” 

“I reckon so,” came the answer, “nobody ever 
comes along here. But you can go down and see, 
if you’re anxious.” 

Steps began to descend the stairway, and Murph 
turned tail, and made his way as rapidly as was 
possible without noise, in the direction of Joe, and 
the canoe. He had not gone half the distance he 
had come, when he heard the voice exclaim, with 
a furious oath : 


218 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Dewitt, here’s the painter of the skiff hanging 
adrift, and the skiff gone !” 

More steps came hurriedly down, and at the same 
instant Murph saw a black streak shoot alongside 
of him, and heard Joe whisper : 

“Take my hand an’ git in cleverly. Then lay 
down in the bottom. Pm goin’ ter dig out an’ we 
can’t afford an upset.” 

The minute the boy was down, Joe swung the 
head of the canoe around with a mighty sweep of 
the paddle, and keeping in the shadow of the shore 
he flew silently and swiftly as a night bird, back 
toward his house. They could hear exclamations 
of wrath, and curses loud and deep as the two men 
evidently realized more fully the disaster which had 
overtaken their fleet. When Floyd reached the 
point from which he had started, he ceased pad- 
dling, and said to Murph : 

“Now, Dennis, my lad, you had better get out 
an’ find yer way ter ther shack. Yer kin bunk in 
thar till I cum back.” 

This proposition did not suit Murph’s views at 
all, and he arose from his recumbent position very 
slowly. 

“Where are you going, anyhow?” asked he, “and 
why can’t I go with you, Mr. Floyd?” 

“Why Dennis, I may lay out all night,” said Joe. 
“Pm goin’ ter Muskeeter island — thet little island 
in ther middle of ther pass — ter watch thet none of 
them convicts swims across ter-night.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 219 

*‘Let me go, too? I’ll watch as well as you, and 
four eyes are better than two,” urged Murph. 

Joe wavered a moment, and then said: 

“Wa’al, come erlong, but mind yer keep yer mouth 
shet, an' yer little carkiss under cover. Thar may 
be bullets flyin’ aroun’ afore mornin’, an’ what wud 
yer mammy say ter me ef yer wos ter git hurt ?” 

Murph did not stop to discuss this question, but 
happy in the desired permission, he settled down in 
his former position in the bottom of the canoe, and 
“kep’ his mouth shet.” Joe made a wide detour, and 
came up on the side of the island opposite Dewitt’s 
landing. When the canoe grated gently on the 
beach, he helped Murph out, and then followed him- 
self. He appeared to have a cat’s gift of seeing in 
the dark, for he picked the canoe up under his arm, 
and directed his course with uneering certainty into 
the thicket that crowned the island. Here he de- 
posited the craft, and led the way across with per- 
fect ease, and despite the gloom. Soon they 
emerged on the other side, and here the rancher 
paused. Right in front, and not two hundred yards 
distant could be seen the black mass of Dewitt’s 
house on the top of the bank. They listened in- 
tently, and presently became aware that several per- 
sons were on the beach beneath, and occasionally 
could hear them call to each other in guarded tones. 

“Dewitt,” said one, as a splash and vigorous 
curse was heard, “is that you?” 

“Yes, and I just barked my shins like blazes!” 


220 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Well, old man, there’s no use in looking further. 
Those boats are gone to a dead moral.” 

“Yes, I guess they are. By thunder, it’s unlucky ! 
Stole, I suppose.” 

“Sure! How else could they go?” 

“Well, what the deuce are we going to do about 
getting the boys off? By this time the warden has 
sent around word, and the ranchers are looking out 
for their boats, so that we can’t get one. And you 
can bet it won’t be healthy for them to remain on 
the island to-morrow ! I know that Bamber ! 
He’s as spry as a wild cat, and he’ll be all over.” 

“They’ll have to swim for it then,” said the other, 
“and collar a boat somewhere on the mainland.” 

“Well,” returned Dewitt, “let’s go up to the 
house. They’ll be here now before long, and my 
eye, won’t Kelley be wild!” 

As they started up the steps to the house Floyd 
reached out his long arm, and pulled Murph so close 
to him that he could whisper in his ear : 

“Dennis,” said he, “I’m goin’ ter ther south point 
of ther island ter watch. Thet’s whar I think 
they’ll cum. But they may be cunning, an’ swim 
here in ther shadder ter the island, cross it, an’ take 
ther short cut again ter ther mainland. You stop 
here, an’ ef any one cums, let me know.” 

“I’ll whistle,” replied Murph, “I could make you 
hear a mile.” 

“All right. Tend ter yer knittin’ now. ” 

After delivering this — to do the newsboy justice 


221 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

— totally unnecessary injunction, Joe disappeared, 
and as closely as Murph listened he could not hear 
him as he took up his new position. Then he 
settled down, and became all eyes and ears. A 
half hour passed, and Murph saw that something 
was going to happen. He heard a door open 
and close at Dewitt's and then a light was brought 
into the room fronting the island. There were no 
shades to the window, and he thought he could dis- 
cern men dressing and undressing inside. Soon 
the light was taken out of the room again. A few 
minutes later, he heard footsteps descending the 
wooden stairway to the water. He concentrated 
his attention, and strained his eyes until they ached, 
but could detect nothing. There was no more 
talking, and not even a splash in the water to guide 
him. 

Murph sat in the mouth of a tiny gully opening 
out of the bank of the island. It was nearly high 
tide, and the strip of beach in front of him was very 
narrow. He was entirely invisible, while on the 
other hand he could fairly well distinguish objects 
of any size on the shingle. And now came the 
crowning test of Murph's nerve that night. As 
he sat watching, a man emerged from the water 
not twenty yards distant. He came up so silently 
in the gloom that for a moment the boy almost re- 
fused to credit his eyes — then his heart beat 
violently, and he knew that it must be one of the 
escaping convicts. When he had agreed to whistle 


222 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

for Joe he had not contemplated the possibility of 
any one being so near to him that it would be dan- 
gerous to attract attention to himself. He realized 
that if he whistled now the man in front would 
be apt to reach him before Joe did, and that con- 
tingency was anything but pleasant. Joe was all 
right, but the other fellow. While he was think- 
ing this out, he watched — without daring to breathe 
hard — the man slowly and cautiously come out of 
the water. When he was fairly on dry land he 
stopped, and gazed around as if to get his bearings. 
Then — and Murph almost gave vent to an audible 
sigh of relief — he started down the beach in the 
direction Joe had taken. A moment’s reflection 
satisfied the newsboy that it was now his duty to 
warn Joe of what was transpiring. He waited un- 
til the fugitive had gone about fifty yards, and then 
he put his crooked forefinger in his mouth, and a 
shrill, ear-piercing whistle quavered through the 
air with an intensity that was startling. 

The man on the beach, at any rate, seemed to find 
it so. He stopped dead short, and stood motionless, 
looking behind him. Then he fell into a listening 
attitude, evidently not daring to move, and expect- 
ing a repetition of the alarming sound. Murph had 
watched the result of his signal with the utmost in- 
terest, and it now occurred to him that if he could 
detain the man a moment it would suit Joe better. 
So he whistled again as loud as he knew how, and 
threw a stone in the air so it would fall near the af- 


223 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

frighted and confused convict. The next instant he 
saw the tall, gaunt form of Floyd come out from the 
bank of the island on the strip of shingle where the 
man stood. Then Joe spoke : 

“Now, don’t make no breaks,” said he. “Ef ye so 
much ez move, I’ll let daylight — leastways star- 
light — thro’ yer.” Then he raised his voice : “Come 
up here, Dennis.” 

Murph came on the keen run, his pulse beating at 
the normal rate again. 

“Now, mister,” remarked the rancher to his pris- 
oner, “jest be ez quiet ez yer kin, an’ I won’t hurt 
ye while this young friend of mine feels yer over ter 
see ef yer hez any guns or knives erbout yer 
clothes.” 

He pointed his rifle threateningly at the head of 
the fugitive as he spoke, and Murph without further 
instruction commenced his search, which was by no 
means fruitless. First the boy brought to light a 
large revolver, and then a long and murderous 
knife. Joe took possession of both these weapons 
without remonstrance on the part of the owner, who 
throughout the affair had not spoken a word. Now 
however, he said sullenly : 

“Who are you? and what business have you to 
hold me up in this way?” 

“Don’t be alarmed,” answered Joe soothingly, “I 
got business. Now let me see them two paws of 
yourn.” 

He took a piece of rope out of his pocket, and 


22 4 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

made the prisoner’s hands fast behind his back as 
handily as a sailor could have done. 

“There, my lamb,” remarked he, “now your claws 
is cut, let’s talk er little. Who be ye?” 

“Find out,” answered the man surlily. 

Joe roughly pushed his chin up, and examined 
him as closely as possible in the dim light. 

“Well, I don’t re-cognize yer,” he grumblingly 
admitted, “but thar’s lots of fellars I don’t know 
thet ought ter be in jail.” 

At this point Murph spoke : 

“I think he hasn’t got all his fingers on his right 
hand, sir. I noticed it as I searched him.” 

Joe seized the convict’s right hand, and despite 
his obstinate efforts to keep it clenched, forced it 
open, and saw that the index finger was missing. 
“So it’s you, Three-fingered Bill! No wonder I 
didn’t know yer with ther baird shaved off yer ugly 
mug.” 

“Yes, Joe Floyd, I know you, too, and I won’t for- 
git this night !” said the ruffian fiercely. 

“Sho!” answered Joe, in his bantering tone, “so 
yer hev got a good mem’ry, hev yer ? Wa’al, ef yer 
shud fergit me I’ll send yer erlong er fotygraph 
when I get some tuk. Whar’s Bill Kelley, an’ Mike 
McGovern? an’ why didn’t they come erlong with 
yer?” 

“That’s for you to find out,” answered the savage. 

“All right. I reckon you air good enough haul 
fer one dip of ther seine. Come erlong, Dennis.” 


225 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

He took Three-fingered Bill by the arm, and led 
him to where he had left the canoe. His great 
strength enabled him to pick it up with one hand, 
and holding his prisoner with the other, they 
reached the water. 

“Now,” he said, “Dennis, Pm goin’ ter leave ye 
here till I take my friend Bill over ter ther shack. 
Thar P 11 make him safe, an’ cum back arter ye. Air 
yer afeard?” 

“No, sir,” replied Murph bravely, but all the same 
he thought to himself that he would have rather 
gone in the boat with Joe. In fact, as soon as the 
canoe was out of sight, he lost no time in stowing 
himself away under a big fallen tree, where he shiv- 
eringly speculated on the possibility of Bill Kelley or 
Mike McGovern appearing before Joe came back. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE 


M URPH, however, was not destined to have any 
more adventures that night. In about a quar- 
ter of an hour Joe Floyd returned. 

“I guess, Dennis,” said he, “thar ain’t no use 
of our stopping here longer. Them whistles yer 
give was alfired loud, an’ I reckon that ther other 
two hez either tuk the alarm, or like ez not they 
swum past ther point of ther island, an’ got safe ter 
ther mainland while we wos monkeyin’ aroun’ with 
Three-fingered Bill. I see thet Dewitt’s house is 
dark, an’ I guess we’ll go back.” 

Murph was not sorry. He was very tired, and 
thought he had earned glory enough for one day, 
anyhow. Joe, now he had time to talk, was very 
complimentary to him about his share of the capture, 
and said many things in regard to his conduct dur- 
ing the evening that made the boy feel proud. 
When they arrived at Joe’s house, Murph found 
that the rancher had tied the escaped convict to a 
stout sapling near by. 

“But couldn’t he holler?” asked Murph. 

“Take a look at his meat trap, an’ yer’ll find out,” 
returned Joe. 

Murph investigated accordingly, and found that 
226 


227 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

a section of stick had been put in the prisoner's 
mouth, and was tied back of his head, gagging him 
so effectually that he could not speak a word, and in 
fact had to breathe through his nose, which he did 
with a snorting sound that suggested temper. It 
was not yet midnight, and after some deliberation 
the rancher decided that the best thing he could do 
was to take his captive to the penitentiary — about 
two miles distant — at once. He announced his de- 
cision to Murph, and unbound Bill from the post, 
mercifully taking the uncomfortable gag from his 
jaws. 

“Ye ain't used no bad langwidge fer an hour, 
ennyhow, Bill," he observed cheeringly as he untied 
the knots. 

Three-fingered Bill glared at him with an anger 
too deep for words, but the huge rancher took no 
notice as he continued preparations for the trip. 
He took a piece of half-inch rope fifteen feet long, 
and made a slip-noose in the end of it. This he put 
around Bill's burly neck, and as the man's hands 
were still confined behind his back, he found himself 
in a very helpless situation. 

“Come on, Dennis," said Joe, carrying his rifle in 
his right, and taking the end of the tether rope in 
his left hand. “Bill," he continued, as that indi- 
vidual displayed no inclination to start, “ yer might 
ez well cum erlong quiet; ef yer don't I'll jerk yer 
ugly head off." 

He gave a sharp pull on the rope to emphasize his 


228 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

words, and without further trouble the sullen cap- 
tive followed. A short walk through intricate for- 
est trails trodden with undeviating certainty by the 
rancher brought the party to the county road in 
front of the penitentiary. 

‘Tull thet bell-rope, Dennis," directed Joe. 

The latter as soon as he found it, gave a hearty 
yank, and a deep-toned bell boomed on the night air. 
Footsteps were shortly heard hurrying down from 
the prison, for the ringing of the bell was a very un- 
usual affair, and then the voice of one of the guards 
was heard on the other side of the wall. 

“What's the matter? Who are you? and what 
are you ringing the bell for ?’’ 

“I reckon it's all kerect," was the answer. “Pm 
Joe Floyd, an' I wanter see ther warden." 

More footsteps came up, and Mr. Bamber’s voice 
was heard saying: “It's all right. Open the gate, 
Mr. Longmire." 

A key was inserted, and the door creaked open. 

“I found one of your pet lambs wandering out of 
ther fold, Warden Bamber, an' me an' Dennis hev 
cotched it, an' brung it back." 

“Good for you, Joe! Bring him up to the house, 
and let’s take a look at him," returned Mr. Bamber 
leading the way. 

When they entered the lighted room, he regarded 
Three-fingered Bill with some disappointment vis- 
ible in his face, and observed: 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 229 

“So it's you, is it, my man? I wish it had been 
Kelley. Where are your two pals ?" 

“They're far enough by this," sulkily answered 
the ruffian, “and so would I have been if I hadn't 
been such a fool as to take the island, instead of 
swimming straight across." 

The warden looked at Joe inquiringly, and the 
rancher corroborated his statement by saying : 

“I reckon he's tellin' ther truth fer once in a way, 
Warden. I think ther other two got over ter the 
mainland while we wos gittin' him, but I'll tell yer 
all erbout it after yer git him locked up." 

“Put him in the black cell, Mr. Longmire," said 
the warden, “and Joe and Murph, you come into my 
room, will you ?" 

They followed Mr. Bamber, who soon had the 
whole story out of them, and again Murph came in 
for his share of the praise. It was agreed that there 
was little doubt that Bill Kelley and Mike McGov- 
ern had reached the mainland successfully, and the 
warden announced his determination of going over 
to Steilacoom the next morning to catch the first 
trolley into Tacoma in order to notify Mr. Catron, 
the United States marshal, of the escape of the 
smugglers. Murph, who was pretty well worn out 
by this time, had curled himself up on the sofa, and 
listened rather drowsily, but when he heard the 
warden's intention he roused himself, and pro- 
claimed that he was going with Mr. Bamber. This 


230 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

determination surprised both men who thought he 
had much better take a long sleep, and board the 
Multnomah at a later hour. But Murph, who was 
very wide-awake again, and apparently excited and 
determined, was in the end allowed to have his own 
way. Before they separated, the warden said: 

“Joe, there was no reward offered because the 
prisoners were not gone long enough, but I think 
you are entitled to fifty dollars anyway.” 

He went to the safe in the corner of the room, and 
took out fifty dollars in gold which he handed to the 
rancher. Joe regarded it in his broad palm. There 
were two double eagles, and two five-dollar pieces. 
He passed one of each over to Murph, saying : 

“We’re pards in this deal, Dennis.” 

The newsboy’s eyes sparkled as he pocketed the 
money, and he answered : 

“I’m proud if you think I earned it, Mr. Floyd.” 

“That you did!” they both replied heartily, and 
then the warden continued : 

“And I want to pay the expenses of your trip 
from Port Townsend, too, Murph. If it had not 
been for your warning, three prisoners would have 
escaped instead of two.” 

He gave him seven dollars more, and Murph went 
off to bed thinking he had done the best day’s work 
of his life. The next morning Mr. Bamber, and the 
newsboy arrived in Tacoma a little before eight 
o’clock, and Murph somewhat to the warden’s sur- 
prise immediately bade him good-bye, and scuttled 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 231 

off by himself as if he had important business on 
hand. .The lad’s first move when he found himself 
alone was to locate the office of the Postal Telegraph 
Company, which he finally did on Pacific avenue. 
He took a blank, and after some laborious cogita- 
tion, wrote the following message, which he paid 
for, and asked to have forwarded at once. 

Tacoma, Sept. 27. 

To Captain Pete Graignic, 

No. 17 Willow Street , Port Townsend , Wash., 

Look out ! K. and McG. both got loose last night. 

Murph. 

The clerk who received the message looked cu- 
riously at the boy as he read his production, and then 
took it over to the superintendent who sat at his 
desk nearby. That official read it, glanced at 
Murph, and nodded to the operator that it was all 
right. 

Murph’s next move was to find out the running 
time of the Port Townsend boat, and he was lucky 
enough to catch the Olympian, which left at nine 
o’clock, and we shall leave him on board for the 
present. 

Captain Pete had been much perturbed ever since 
he had sent Murph down to warn Mr. Bamber. 
Long Tom and Black Sam had disappeared from 
town the same night the newsboy went. Pete knew 


232 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

they must have gone in some sort of small sailing 
craft, such as most of these nomads of the Sound 
possess, since they were not passengers on the Evan- 
gel, which was the only steamer by which they could 
get anywhere near the Sucia islands. He had not 
told a soul of his trouble, not even Tom Fisher, for 
he didn’t see that anyone could help him in the ab- 
sence of the Major, or Captain Kennedy or his 
staunch friend the Collector. As it was, the only 
one he took into his confidence was Dope. The 
great mastiff evidently sympathized deeply, for 
whenever Pete sat down, which he was too uneasy to 
do often, he would come and lay his head on his 
knee with gentle insistence, and say, in dog lan- 
guage: 

“I’m with you, master. All you’ve got to do, is 
to say the word, and I’ll help wherever I can.” 

At such times Pete would pat the huge head, and 
answer : 

“Thanks, Dope. Maybe you’ll have a chance to 
get in your work yet. I’m going to take you down 
to Waldron with me when I go.” 

Then Dope would wag his tail proudly, and exe- 
cute a ponderous caper of delight. Finally, Pete de- 
termined to take the Evangel the next morning, 
(Wednesday) and go over to East Sound, on Orcas 
island. From there he could walk across, and bor- 
row a boat from some rancher which would carry 
him to his father’s house. This was the same day 
that Murph had come up to Tacoma, and sent him 


2 33 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

the telegram. Pete sent a note to Tom Fisher be- 
fore his departure, saying that he was off to see his 
father on urgent business. Tom received this note 
early Wednesday morning, and at once went to 
Pete’s room full of curiosity. It was about nine 
o’clock, and Pete had already gone down to the 
Evangel, which left at 9:30. While Tom stood un- 
decided, a telegraph messenger boy came along with 
a yellow envelope in his hand. 

“Does Captain Pete Graignic live here?” he 
asked. 

“Yes,” said Tom, “give it here.” 

He signed for it, and looking at his watch, started 
for the Evangel as hard as he could go. She was 
just about to cast off from the wharf when he ar- 
rived, breathless. Pete saw his arrival from the up- 
per deck, and rushed down in time to get the mes- 
sage. Before he could read it, or say anything to 
Tom, the boat hauled out from the dock, and started 
on her journey. 

“It’s just as well,” muttered Pete to himself, as 
he read the telegram, “that I brought Dope, and my 
gun along, for from the looks of things, I am going 
to have use for them both.” 

Pete rowed up to the beach in front of his father’s 
house about five o’clock that afternoon. The Tyee 
was lying moored in her usual place, and looking 
trim and handsome in her new coat of paint. As his 
boat’s nose grated on the shingle the elder Graignic 
came hastily around the house. In a moment he had 


234 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Pete in his arms, and was hugging him with the im- 
petuosity of his French nature. Then his mother, 
and the children followed, and for a few minutes 
there was a regular love feast. While this was go- 
ing on, Dope sat on his hinder end near his master, 
and looked calmly on giving an occasional thump 
with his tail to denote that he approved, and en- 
dorsed the whole proceeding. When the rejoicings 
were over Pete introduced the mastiff to his father 
and mother, making him shake hands with them, 
and saying: 

“Dope, this is my father, and this is my mother.” 

Shortly after they went to the house leaving Pete 
and the dog at the boat, as our hero requested. 
When they were all inside Pete gave his hand 
satchel to Dope, and said : 

“Take this to father, Dope.” 

The intelligent animal looked up at his master, 
and then trotted away with the handle of the bag be- 
tween his strong white teeth. Pete followed at his 
leisure, and when he came in the house he found 
that Dope had deposited his burden at the fisher- 
man’s feet, and lain down beside him. 

“Now, zat’s a dog wors having!” remarked the 
elder Graignic. 

“Yes,” answered Pete, “he’ll do almost anything 
except talk.” 

Before long the fisherman went out to the barn, 
and Pete, under the pretext that he would like to 
look around, followed him. It was the first chance 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 235 

they had had to have a word alone. The father 
gazed at his son proudly as he came up, and recog- 
nized the difference a year of civilization and study 
had made in the lad. 

“Father,” said Pete, “I am afraid I have some 
bad news for you.” 

“What is it, my son?” asked the fisherman, sur- 
veying him keenly, “I guess I can stand it. Ze 
Port Townsend National bank hasn’t failed, has 
it?” 

“No, not so bad as that,” returned the boy, “but 
it is serious enough to have brought me down here 
in a hurry, with my dog and gun.” 

“Oh!” said the fisherman with a sigh of relief 
and catching on with great readiness, “I expect it’s 
somezing to do wiz Bill Kelley, and his friends, 
zen. I’ve been razer surprised at not hearing from 
zem in some way. Zey’re a revengeful lot. But 
what is it, my son ?” 

Captain Pete related the story from Murph’s 
overhearing the conversation between Black Sam 
and Long Tom, to the telegram he had received as 
he was leaving Port Townsend, notifying him that 
Kelley and McGovern were at large. The fisherman 
listened attentively, asking a question here and there 
to get the matter clearly in his mind, and when the 
narration was concluded, he looked grave, though 
not at all alarmed. 

“Yes, I am glad you came down, my son,” he re- 
marked. “Zese fellows mean mischief. If zey come 


236 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

before Kelley and McGovern join zem, they might 
only burn us out, but if they all get togezer they will 
do anyzing for revenge after zey’re once started. 
I know of zis Strobel, too. He’s got a ranche on ze 
Sucias, not far from here, and his place is a rendez- 
vous for bad characters, such as Sound pirates, and 
smugglers. It is said he killed one of his com- 
panions last summer. So you see, Pete, zis is likely 
to be a serious matter.” 

“Well, we know what to expect,” observed his 
son. “That’s one comfort.” 

“Yes,” responded his father, “it gives us ze best 
of it. Pete, I’m going to send your mozer and ze 
children down to Thomas’s to stay two or zree days, 
and you and I, and your dog will hold ze fort. It’s 
lucky you brought him along.” 

“Yes, I fancied he’d be useful,” replied Pete. 
“Shall we tell mother?” 

“I zink so. She’d suspect somezing, and be just 
as miserable ozerwise. You see, she’d be bound to 
know somezing was up, you coming home so sud- 
denly, and her and ze children being bundled off. 
And zen she might turn up when we didn’t want 
her, and zat would be very bad. Yes, I’ll go in 
now, and tell her, and we’ll get zem all off in half 
an hour. Zen we’ll have a chance to lay our own 
plans. We’ve got to do some scheming ourselves.” 

He went into the house, and when Pete shortly 
followed he found that his father’s counsel had been 
wise. Mrs. Graignic was quietly packing a bundle 


237 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

of the things she would require during her absence. 
She called Pete to her, and whispered to him to be 
careful of himself. Then she and the children de- 
parted. Mr. Thomas, the neighbor to whose house 
they were going lived about three miles away, and 
was an intimate friend of the Graignic’s, and his 
house was large enough to accommodate them all. 

“Now,” said Mr. Graignic, “we’re all alone, Pete, 
so now let’s sit down, and figure zis zing out. In 
ze first place, you say Black Sam and Long Tom 
left Port Townsend last night in a small boat?” 

“They left last night,” answered Pete, “or rather 
disappeared. Joe Hanlon, who agreed to keep 
track of them for me after Murph left, could not find 
them at all. I am sure they must have gone in a 
small boat, because they couldn’t have got to Stro- 
bel’s in any other fashion.” 

“Well, if zat’s the case,” resumed the fisherman, 
“zey could not have got to his house much before 
you arrived here. But allowing for ordinary luck 
zey’re zere now. It’s possible zey may come here 
to-night, as zey mean to do me up before Kelley and 
ze ozzers arrive. I zink you made a mistake in not 
telling ze custom house people all you know.” 

“Why, Dad,” answered Pete; “I thought you and 
I could take care of ourselves.” 

“But you forget, my son, zey might have captured 
Kelley and McGovern at Strobel’s.” 

“Great Caesar!” exclaimed Pete, “what a fool I 
was not to have seen that! But then,” he added, 


238 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“you see, after all, Dad, I thought my warning to 
the warden of the penitentiary would prevent them 
from getting away.” 

“Yes, zaps so. Well, we’ve got about two hours 
more of daylight, and zen we must keep a weazer 
eye out for squalls. Is ze mastiff a good watch 
dog?” . 

“Wait till you see, Dad. Now where do you 
think the enemy will land ?” 

“Well, Pete, it’s easy enough for zem to spot 
the house because zere are no trees between it and ze 
water, and I always keep a lamp lit in ze front room 
in ze evening. Zey’d steer by ze light, and land 
about two hundred yards above here where ze point 
runs out. Now I propose we leave ze lamp burn as 
usual, but you and I will lie out by zat point, and see 
zem when they come. After zey land we’ll follow 
zem down, and if zey try any of zeir funny business 
about ze house or barn, we’ll hold them up. And 
if necessary, some of zem will get hurt. Can you do 
any good wiz zat gun Captain Kennedy gave you in 
Victoria?” 

Pete smiled at this question : “I forgot you haven’t 
seen me shoot lately, Dad. I wish I had as much 
money as I can shoot straight.” 

By which rhetorical figure Mr. Graignic gathered 
as he was expected to, that Captain Pete was a very 
good shot, indeed. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO 


a nUT” said Captain Pete, “I think I can im- 
' prove on your plan.” 

“How?” 

“We'll put Dope to watch the beach from the 
point of the house. Eve got him trained so he'll 
come and tell me if any one is approaching, without 
making them aware of the fact. He never barks 
unless I give him leave.” 

“Is zat so? He's a great dog! but can we trust 
him in zis matter? Zere mustn't be any mistake 
made. It might cost a good deal money, and possi- 
bly one of our lives.” 

“I'd trust him quicker than I would myself, Dad. 
Then you see, if he takes the watch on the water 
front, you and I can ambush ourselves, one by the 
barn, and the other by the house. And I think 
that's a good idea to leave the light burning in the 
front room.” 

“All right,” concluded the elder Graignic, “zen 
zat’s settled. Now let's get supper.” 

“You make the fire, Dad, and I’ll go and put 
Dope on duty right away.” 

He went out followed by the mastiff, who had im- 
mediately risen on hearing his name mentioned. In 
a few moments the lad returned, and said : 

239 


240 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Now we’ll know if anybody comes, without hav- 
ing to keep a lookout ourselves.” 

They cooked themselves a good supper, and a pot 
of strong coffee, which the Frenchman could make 
to perfection, and were just going to sit down when 
Dope came in through the open door. He went 
straight to his master, looked up in his face, and 
whimpered. 

“What is it, Dope?” asked Pete. 

Dope gave a low growl, and then whimpered 
again, after which he started for the door, looking 
back at Pete. 

“There’s somebody coming, Dad,” said Pete to 
his father, who was watching this dog pantomime 
in great surprise. “It can’t be Black Sam and Long 
Tom yet, can it?” 

“By zunder!” ejaculated Mr. Graignic, “zat’s a 
great animal ! Well, let’s go and see who it is.” 

He took his Winchester rifle from the rack, and 
pulled down the guard, forcing a cartridge from the 
magazine into the barrel, while Pete buckled the 
belt containing Captain Kennedy’s gift around his 
waist underneath his coat, and they both followed 
the mastiff, who now took the lead, to the beach. 
Sure enough, there to the southward, a quarter of a 
mile off, and close in shore, a canoe was approach- 
ing, being rowed apparently — for they could see the 
oar blades flash — at great speed. 

“Great Scott !” exclaimed the fisherman, who was 
gifted with very keen sight. “I believe I know zat 


241 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

canoe. If it ain’t ze one we took from Mike Mc- 
Govern and Zree-fingered Bill, I’m a Dutchman !” 

“That looks mighty like Kennedy on the forward 
thwart,” observed Pete, who could see pretty well 
himself. 

“Sapristi ! you’re right, Pete. If zis ain’t great 
luck!” 

“We won’t do a thing to Black Sam and Long 
Tom now !” slangily remarked Captain Pete. “And 
what do you think of Dope, Dad? Is he a safe 
sentinel ?” 

“He’s a Jim Dandy!” returned the jubilant old 
fisherman. 

“That’s what he is,” assented Pete proudly, as he 
patted the mastiff’s head, “but you haven’t seen half 
his good points yet.” 

In a few minutes the canoe dashed up, and Cap- 
tain Kennedy sprang out. 

“Ah! you young villain,” said he, as he shook 
hands with our hero, “you wanted to have all the fun 
between your father and yourself, did you ?” 

Pete laughed, and answered, as the revenue man 
cordially greeted the fisherman : 

“How on earth did you catch on, Cap?” 

“Why, I got a cypher despatch from U. S. Mar- 
shal Catron that told me of the escape of Kelley and 
McGovern. It mentioned you and Murph, and said 
that you knew the men were coming to the Sucias. 
I figured pretty sharp, and reckoned that like as not 
you were here to tell your father, especially after I 


242 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

wired Port Townsend, and got word from Tom 
Fisher that you had left this morning on the Evan- 
gel. Then I took Jimmy, the little Scotchman — 
you remember him, don’t you ? — and we came along 
hand over hand. And here we are, and hungry as 
starved wild cats.” 

“Well, supper is just ready, Cap. But first let me 
introduce Dope to Jimmy, so he’ll know he’s a 
friend, and then carry the canoe back into the brush. 
We don’t want it to be recognized, and spoil sport.” 

“That’s a good idea,” acknowledged Kennedy. 
“Pete, all your learning has not made a fool of you 
yet.” 

Dope and Jimmy were formally made acquainted 
with each other, Captain Kennedy being an old 
friend, and after the hand-shaking process nec- 
essary to the ceremony was duly gone through, 
and the canoe cached out of sight in the neighbor- 
ing timber, Captain Pete made a sign to the dog 
who quietly took up his sentinel duty, while they 
all went back to the house for supper. While 
eating, matters were entirely explained to ; the 
revenue officer. He agreed that their arrange- 
ments had been all right, but suggested that now 
there were four of them they should alter their 
plans slightly. 

“In fact,” said he, when they were finished, “I 
don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t just lay the 
whole gang by the heels as easy as rolling off a 
log. In the first place, we can take this Black 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 243 

Sam and Long Tom here. They’ll go to jail right 
enough for threatening to burn you out. Murph’s 
evidence, and their being caught on the spot will 
do that. Provided Strobel don’t come with them, 
we’ll take the canoe, and go over, and capture him. 
Then we’ll lay in ambush for a day or two for 
Bill Kelley, and McGovern. They’ll be sure to be 
along by that time, for they will steal a boat, and 
make for this point the first thing to hear the news, 
and post themselves on their prospects. Now, 
what do you think of it?” he concluded, looking at 
the two Graignics. 

They regarded each other interrogatively, and 
the fisherman lisped : 

“It’s a go, Cap! I’d like to see zose two fellows 
back where ze dogs won’t bite ’em, for I ain’t sure 
it’s healzy for eizer Pete or me to have zem out- 
side ze bars, and in zis neighborhood. So you can 
just count on us bos, and the dog. From what I’ve 
seen of him, I allow he’s better zan an extra man.” 

“To be sure he is,” said Pete, “and that reminds 
me that I must feed him.” He gathered up the re- 
mains of the supper in a milk pan, and went to the 
door, taking a small whistle out of his pocket: 
“Now,” he said, “one toot means "take your time, 
Dope,’ and two means 'come along in a hurry.’ I’ll 
give him two.” 

He whistled twice, shortly and sharply, and then 
held up his hand for them to listen. In a second 
they all heard a rapid sound of feet, and before the 


1 


244 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

echoes had died away, Dope was before his master. 

“Now,” said Pete, “here’s your supper. Eat it, 
and then go back, and watch again.” 

Dope listened to this order with the intelligence 
of a human being shining from his eyes. Then he 
quietly ate his meal, and disappeared from the room 
again. Captain Pete looked at the others. 

The old fisherman slapped his thigh with his 
horny hand. 

“Well,” he exclaimed, “if zat don’t beat all! 
Pete, how did you ever train him so ?” 

“Patience, and perseverance,” replied Pete. 

“Yes,” broke in Kennedy philosophically, “pa- 
tience, perseverance, and elbow grease ! The three 
things that that fellow, Arkim Eads, made the lever 
with, to move the earth.” 

The old fisherman looked rather doubtfully at 
Pete, as if he would like to have his opinion on the 
matter. Pete smiled, and remarked : 

“No doubt he would have made it that way. The 
Captain is a little mistaken. He didn’t make the 
lever at all; he only said that if he had a place to 
rest one — a fulcrum, you know — he could move the 
world.” 

Captain Kennedy listened to Pete’s comment on 
his statement with equanimity, and summed up the 
matter by remarking: “Well, he must have been 
a great mechanic, anyhow. I wonder if the Eads 
that fixed up the mouth of the Mississippi was any 
kin to him?” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 245 

“No,” answered Pete gravely, “they spell their 
names differently.” 

The darkness was now closing in, and the fisher- 
man suggested that they had more important mat- 
ters to think of than those they were discussing. 
They accordingly went out to select their ambushes. 
It was finally decided that the officer and Pete should 
hide themselves near the barn, while Mr. Graignic 
and Jimmy were stationed in a clump of shrubbery 
near the house. Thus the four were within a hun- 
dred yards of each other, and it would be easy to 
reinforce either party should they need assistance. 
By the time these points had been decided, night 
had fallen. There was no moon, but the stars 
glowed like jewels on the dark mantle of the sky. 
After the eyes had become accustomed to the ob- 
scurity it was possible to see faintly for twenty or 
thirty yards. As Kennedy and Pete took up their 
stations beneath a fir tree, a short distance from 
the barn, Pete gave a short toot on his dog whistle. 

“What's that for?” asked Kennedy. 

“I want to let Dope know where I am,” replied 
the lad, “so that he won't waste time hunting for 
me when he's got news to tell.” 

In a few moments Dope came leisurely up, wag- 
ging his tail, and thrust his nose into his master's 
hand. Pete caressed him, and then said: “Go 
back, and watch, Dope.” 

He started back to his post in a perfectly matter- 
of-fact way. 


246 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Great dog!” commented Kennedy. 

Now ensued a couple of tedious hours. Kennedy 
would not even light his pipe, for fear a spark or 
the odor of the burning tobacco might betray their 
position. Captain Pete was not nervous, for he 
knew that whatever happened they would not be 
taken by surprise. He and the officer conversed 
in a low tone until about half-past ten, and then 
Pete heard his father go into the house to extin- 
guish the lamp which had been burning in the front 
room until now. Shortly after this Dope appeared 
as silently as a ghost. Pete and Kennedy sprang 
to their feet, and the former said in a whisper: 

“What is it Dope?” 

The dog replied as well as he could by the same 
repressed whimper that he had used before. 

“Well, Cap,” said Pete, “they’re here. What 
shall we do now?” 

“I’d like to know mighty well where they landed, 
or are going to land if they haven’t yet?” remarked 
Kennedy earnestly. 

“Suppose Dope and I go, and reconnoiter,” sug- 
gested Pete. “I put on a pair of moccasins after 
supper, and we wouldn’t make as much noise as a 
cat.” 

“Well, go along,” answered the officer, “but be 
careful they don’t get on to you.” 

“No fear,” replied Pete, as he and Dope melted 
into the darkness. He put his hand on the dog’s 
neck, and they struck into a trail that led north- 


247 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

ward from the barn. Dope was leading his master, 
in fact, and Pete directly knew, as the dog left the 
trail, and struck across some “logged-off” land that 
they were going in the direction of the point where 
his father had thought it likely that the marauders 
would land. Dope was in a hurry, and showed 
an inclination to go faster than was comfortable 
for his master, but when the latter whispered, 
“Steady, Dope ! steady, old man,” 

He slowed up at once. Their course soon lead 
them to a thin belt of timber beyond which the 
waters of the Sound glimmered in the starlight. 
As they reached the edge of this strip Dope stopped, 
and Pete felt his body grow tense and rigid under 
his hand. 

“Yes, good dog, I understand, steady!” whis- 
pered Pete. 

The noble brute turned his head back, and gave 
Pete’s hand a quick lick with his hot tongue, and 
then gazed eagerly into the darkness again. Then 
the lad heard low voices on the beach, and in a 
moment he was able to distinguish three men and 
a boat by the water’s edge. It was evident that the 
men had just disembarked, and they were clustered 
together, talking in an undertone so cautiously that 
Pete could only catch an occasional word. But he 
heard “Graignic” enunciated twice, and was certain 
that the men were the expected visitors. He put 
his hand on his revolver to see that it was hanging 
in its place, and said to himself: 


248 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“They’ve got Strobel with them. Now I’ll send 
Dope to tell father that they’re here, and then I’ll 
follow when they start, and we’ll have them be- 
tween two fires. How lucky I’ve got Dope, and 
that he’s so good at this kind of work!” 

He pulled the dog’s head around, and putting his 
lips close to his ear, whispered : 

“Dope, go, and tell father someone’s here, and 
stay with him. Do you understand ?” 

The sagacious animal lifted his head, and as soon 
as he heard the command trotted off silently in the 
direction of the house. 

Pete’s suspense did not last long, for in a few 
minutes the men came up the beach, talking. Now 
he heard them plainly, and one voice said, with a 
slight German accent: 

“Dere is a trail here somevere, if I can only find 
it. It leads right to de barn, which stands in a 
small clearing.” 

“Well,” said another voice impatiently, which 
Pete thought must belong to Long Tom, “that’s 
where we want to go. Start ahead! You’ve been 
in this God-forsaken place before, lead the caravan.” 

“Here’s de trail, come on!” replied Strobel’s 
voice, and they passed along it within ten feet of 
Pete, who held his breath as they went by. In an 
instant they passed out of sight, and the boy fell 
in after them, stealthy, silent-footed, and revolver 
in hand. Pete had to go by hearing rather than 
by sight to avoid overtaking the party in front, buti 


249 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

his senses were naturally keen, and well cultivated, 
so no disaster befell him. Shortly they came to 
the borders of the patch on which the barn stood. 
The men clustered together again as if for consul- 
tation, and then Pete saw one of them leave the 
group, and walk towards the building as though to 
reconnoiter. 

Our hero remained quiet, and watched this figure 
— which he thought was that of the German — ad- 
vance until it was opposite the fir tree, where he 
had left Kennedy. Imagine his consternation, how- 
ever, when he saw the revenue man step into the 
starlight, and say : 

“Well, Pete, did you find the rascals ?” 

Kennedy had mistaken Strobel — who was not a 
large man — for Pete. 

For a second Pete was undecided what to do, 
but events passed so quickly that he had his hands 
full without any opportunity of choice. He saw 
Strobel snatch a pistol from his side, and raise it. 
At the same moment Kennedy realized his error. 
Swift as a flash of lightning, the ready-witted 
officer grabbed his felt hat from his head, and flung 
it straight in the face of his adversary, disconcert- 
ing his aim. As the “gun” was discharged in the 
air, Kennedy leapt forward like a tiger, and struck 
the German a blow with his fist that sounded on 
the night air as if it had been dealt with a sledge- 
hammer. Strobel fell in his tracks. 

The next moment Pete saw Long Tom raise his 


250 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

rifle to his shoulder. Before it got there Pete’s 
revolver barked, and the man gave a scream of 
pain, and his rifle dropped to the ground. As it 
did so, Pete called out: 

“Throw up your hands, you two, or I’ll fill you 
full of lead I” 

They could not see where the command came 
from, but they obeyed it promptly. Then Kennedy 
sung out to Pete : 

“How are you fixed, Pete?” 

“I’ve got my two men all right,” he answered. 

“I’ve got mine, too,” rejoined Kennedy, “but he 
came mighty near getting me!” 

At this moment there was a fierce rush of feet, 
and Dope came to his master. Then Pete came 
out into the open, in front of Long Tom and Black 
Sam. 

“Here Dope,” said he, “watch these two fellows 
for me. Don’t let them move.” 

Dope gave a cavernous growl, and began slowly 
circling around his prisoners in a business-like way 
that made them shiver. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE 

IWl R. GRAIGNIC and Jimmy came hurrying up 
* ' * on the heels of Dope, and then Captain Ken- 
nedy joined them, having handcuffed his prisoner, 
who he said, was still insensible from the “tap” he 
gave him. 

“Tap!” observed Pete, “it sounded like the blow 
of a battering ram. You hit pretty hard, Cap.” 

“Well, you see Pete, I was in a hurry, and didn’t 
have time to measure it out. But what did you 
shoot for?” 

“Why, Long Tom here, just had his rifle up to 
take a crack at you. I had to do some quick work, 
too. I think I hit him in the shoulder. That’s 
what I aimed for.” 

“Well, call your dog off a moment, and I’ll take 
a look at these two/’ A groan from Tom inter- 
rupted him. “Oh!” he continued, “it hurts, does 
it? Well, you see how it feels to be shot. Jimmy, 
put the bracelets on our black friend here, and we’ll 
go to the house if Strobel is ready to get up.” 

All went back to where Strobel lay, Dope keep- 
ing close behind the heels of the two prisoners. 
The German was just regaining consciousness. 

“Donner Wetter!” he mumbled, “I dink my jaw 
is broke.” 


252 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Come along,” said Kennedy, lifting him to his 
feet by the nape of his neck. “We’ll go in the 
house, and examine the wounded. Jimmy, trot 
along ahead, and light the lamp, unless you can 
send Dope to do it,” he added to Pete. 

“No !” laughed the boy, who was feeling in very 
good spirits, and justly proud of the part the dog 
had taken in the affray. “Dope’s done his share 
already. Dad, did he come to you a little while 
ago?” 

“Yes,” said the fisherman, “he came right up in 
front of me, and whimpered. I knew at once you 
had sent him to tell me ze men had arrived, and 
to be on ze look out. And zen he stayed wiz me 
until you shot, and called out for zem to hold up 
zeir hands.” 

Dope had evidently listened to this account of his 
doings, for he came and jumped up, and put his 
paws on his master’s shoulders, licking his face. 
Pete patted his huge head proudly, and the dog went 
back with a growl to his task of watching Black 
Sam and Long Tom. On reaching the house, Cap- 
tain Kennedy peeled off Tom’s shirt, and found that 
Pete’s ball had passed through the fleshy part of 
his upper arm, making a severe flesh wound, but 
injuring no bones. 

“You’re a lucky blackguard,” he remarked. “If 
the bullet had gone an inch higher, it would have 
smashed your shoulder to flinders. As it is, you 
will be all right again in a few days, unless you’ve 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 253 

been drinking too much rum lately, and got your 
blood out of order.” 

It was noticeable that Captain Kennedy’s actions 
were tenderer than his tongue. All the time he 
was talking, he was working carefully and cleverly 
at the wound. He managed to staunch the flow 
of blood, and then bound it up scientifically with a 
bandage he drew from his pocket. 

“There,” he said finally, as he gave it the finish- 
ing touch, “you’re more comfortable than you de- 
serve to be.” 

“You’re a good sort, Captain,” said the rough 
fellow. “I’m glad I did not shoot you now.” 

“Well,” answered the captain carelessly, “if you 
think you owe me any gratitude, just bottle it up, 
and carry it around with you until I need it. Here, 
Strobel, let’s look at your ugly mug, and see how 
much I’ve damaged it.” 

The side of his face was bruised and swollen, 
but it was concluded that nothing worse than a black 
eye would result. “You see,” commented the rev- 
enue man, as he bandaged his head in a cloth wet 
with vinegar, “I struck him square on the cheek 
bone, and a very lucky thing it was for him, for 
I hit so hard that if the blow had landed back of 
the ear, or on the neck, it likely would have killed 
him, which really wouldn’t have made me awful 
sorry.” 

The German’s face, as he glared at him, ex- 
pressed none of the gratitude that Long Tom had 


254 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

exhibited. He muttered something savagely in 
German as the officer finished, and stepped back 
to the side of Black Sam. 

“Now, Mr. Graignic, what shall we do with these 
chaps ?” asked Kennedy. 

“I’ve got a good stone cellar under ze storeroom,” 
answered the fisherman. “It ain’t very large, 
but — ” 

“It’ll do for Sam and the Dutchman,” broke in 
Kennedy. “If you’ve got a spare bed, I guess we’ll 
let Tom have it.” 

Long Tom gave him a silent, grateful glance, but 
Strobel looked at the officer with the expression of 
an enraged wild beast. Before leaving them in the 
cellar for the night, Kennedy borrowed some rope 
of Mr. Graignic, and made the ankles and hands 
of both of them fast in such a way that it seemed 
impossible for them to escape. Then he locked the 
door on them, and put the key in his pocket. Long 
Tom was given a small bedroom off the sitting- 
room, and Kennedy went in with him to help him 
undress. 

“Tom,” he said, “you don’t seem half a bad fel- 
low. How did you get in with this gang? You 
haven’t been around the Sound long, for I don’t 
know you. Why don’t you take a brace, old man, 
and get out of bad company? Are you a pal of 
Bill Kelley’s?” 

“Cap,” said Long Tom with earnestness, “if 


2 55 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

you'll believe me, I never see the man in my life. 
You’ve been a good friend to me this night, and I 
am going to tell you the whole truth.” 

“Do,” said .the officer gently, “it’ll be the best 
job you ever did.” 

“Well,” commenced Tom, “this is honest, so help 
me Bob! I deserted from the Monarch British 
man-of-war at Squimalt, just about six weeks ago. 
I had to lay around the 'dives’ in Victoria to keep 
from being caught, and in one of them I run ath- 
wart of Black Sam and Strobel. They had plenty 
of coin, and treated me white. After I had known 
them a week, Strobel asked me down to his ranche 
on the Sucia’s, saying I had better get across the 
line for I was in danger of being nabbed any day 
in Victoria. So I went with them. We came in 
Strobel’s sloop, the Black Maria he calls it, and 
brought a barrel of whiskey, and some dope with us. 
Sam and me took this over to Port Townsend and 
sold it. Then they told me Bill Kelley and Mike 
McGovern, and Three-fingered Bill would be out of 
the pen shortly, and they were all going in for 
the smuggling racket heavy. Kelley and his pals 
were to bring the dope to Strobel’s place, and then 
Sam and me, who were not so well known to the 
custom’s officers, would work it off. And they 
wanted me to join them, and as I was full of rum 
most of the time, I did. And now,” he concluded, 
“honest, Cap, I’m sorry for it, for I never did noth- 


256 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

ing crooked before. Abopt this night’s job, I 
didn’t like it, but I was half coaxed, and half drove 
into it. And that’s all!” 

Captain Kennedy listened to this story without 
taking his keen eyes off the man’s face, or inter- 
rupting him once. Now he said : 

“1 believe you, Tom, and since you have told me 
of your own accord, this is what I’ll do. I’ll be a 
friend of yours, and save your bacon, and here’s my 
hand on it.” He solemnly shook the sailor’s left 
hand, and continued: “Now, be easy, Tom, for I’ll 
see that you don’t get into trouble over this job, and 
let it be a lesson to you. But tell me, when did Stro- 
bel and Black Sam expect Bill Kelley and the oth- 
ers ?” 

“This week,” answered Tom readily, and look- 
ing much easier in his mind. “They didn’t know 
to a day, but they were to get here the latter part 1 
of the week.” 

“And this is Wednesday night,” thought the cap- 
tain. “The latter part of the week begins to-mor- 
row.” Then aloud: “Good-night, Tom.” 

He came out to the room where the others were, 
holding up his hand to caution them not to speak, 
and led the way into the kitchen. They all fol- 
lowed quickly, for their curiosity had been aroused 
by his long conference with the wounded man. 

“Tom has told me the whole story,” said he, 
as soon as the door was closed. “He is not a bad 
fellow, by any means. The trouble seems to have 


257 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

been that he fell into bad company, and now that 
he has seen what it leads to, he is very anxious to 
get out again. He tells me that Kelley, McGovern, 
and Three-fingered Bill expect to be at Strobel’s 
ranche this week. There is a reward of $50 for 
each offered by the warden of the penitentiary and 
$150 for each by the custom’s department, so you 
see capturing them would be worth our while — 
outside the fun. What do you say then, if we 
leave Jimmy here to act as jailer to our prisoners, 
take the Dutchman’s boat, and go over and occupy 
his house. When the escaped convicts turn up, 
we’ll give them a surprise party.” 

“All right,” agreed Mr. Graignic, “and Jimmy 
can explain our absence to my wife when she comes 
over to-morrow, and tell her to wait at Thomas’s 
until my return.” 

“Then shall we go right away?” asked Pete. 

“Yes, the sooner the better,” said the captain. 

“I zink so too,” added Mr. Graignic. “It’s better 
to be too early zan too late.” 

Captain Kennedy gave Jimmy explicit instruc- 
tions in regard to the welfare and safety of the 
captives, and they set out along the beach, fol- 
lowed by Dope, in the direction of the boat the 
marauders had arrived in. It was found to be 
an excellent whale-boat, fitted for sail as well as 
oars, and safe enough, if well handled, to cross 
the Pacific in. There was a brisk southwesterly 
breeze blowing, and Pete set the leg-of-mutton 


258 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

sail while his father shipped the rudder. The sail 
was a delightful experience to Pete. He inhaled 
long breaths of the biting salt air, and thought to 
himself that study, and the life in cities was perhaps 
necessary, if one wanted to get ahead in life, but 
that after all, his former calling as a fisherboy 
was by no means to be despised. An hours’ sail 
brought them to their destination. They landed in 
a little cove, a hundred yards from the shanty the 
fisherman pointed out as the German’s home. 

“Suppose there is anyone else there!” suggested 
Pete. 

“I guess not,” returned Captain Kennedy, rather 
taken aback by the unthought-of possibility. 
“Long Tom did not mention anyone else, but to 
be sure, I did not think to ask him.” 

“We’d better be sure about it,” remarked the 
fisherman. “Pete, suppose you, and Dope go up, 
and see. We’ll lie in ze brush until you come 
back. And be kind of careful, my boy. Zose chaps 
are apt to blaze away on sight.” 

“Come Dope,” said Pete, “more work.” 

Dope followed him, and avoiding the trail, as 
apt to be watched they made their way to the 
house. It was a small, one-story shack, built in 
the rudest way. There was a window on each side, 
but a curtain made of bagging prevented the in- 
terior from being seen, even if it had been light 
enough. Pete stood close by the wall, and listened 
intently. He could hear no breathing inside, so he 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 259 

gently pushed the door, which was unfastened, 
and stepped within. He listened again in vain, and 
then struck a match. As he had anticipated, the 
room was empty. A lamp stood on a home-made 
table. He lighted it, and going to the door gave 
a call. In a moment the rest of the party appeared. 

“Now,” said Mr. Graignic, “we may as well fin- 
ish up ze night, for it’s nearly zree o’clock, by 
having breakfast. Zen Pete can put Dope on 
watch, and we’ll sleep. What do you say, Cap- 
tain Kennedy?” 

“I say that’s all right,” he replied. “I’ll make 
a fire, and you French fellows do the cooking.” 

In a twinkle he had a bright blaze in the mud 
chimneyplace, and meantime Pete and his father 
investigated Strobel’s resources in the way of prov- 
ender. A side of bacon, some tins of preserved 
meats, and part of a bag of flour were soon fer- 
reted out. Mr. Graignic made some damper, and 
fried a lot of bacon. That, with a can of meat 
Pete opened made them a bountiful breakfast. 
Dope, who came sniffing around his master rather 
wistfully, had his share too. Then Pete took the 
dog out, and set him to watch the water front, and 
they all lay down to sleep. 

It was late in the afternoon before they routed 
out again. After cooking and eating another meal, 
they laid their plans for the night. Captain Ken- 
nedy thought it was more than likely that the es- 
caped smugglers would arrive some time after mid- 


260 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

night, if they succeeded in getting hold of a sail 
boat, for it was not at all probable they would stop 
anywhere on the way, knowing that the authorities 
would keep a keen lookout for them. It was fi- 
nally decided that as none of them were in need of 
rest, they would all stand watch, including the dog. 
Should the smugglers turn up, they would ambush 
them as they came to the house from the boat. As 
Kelley and McGovern had no reason to suspect that 
their rendezvous with Strobel was known, they 
would probably be entirely unsuspicious, and readily 
fall into the trap. 

They disposed themselves along the water front 
within easy communication of each other, and Pete 
set the dog on guard again. The first part of the 
night passed without alarm, but about half an hour 
before daylight Dope, who happened to be standing 
alongside of his master, suddenly pricked up his 
ears, and gazed earnestly to the southward. There 
had been a fresh southerly wind all night, but now 
it had died down as it frequently does in these lat- 
itudes, about daybreak. Pete, warned by the dog’s 
attitude, bent ear and eye keenly seaward. A 
moment later he thought he could detect the sound 
of oars working in the rowlocks. He listened in- 
tently, and shortly was certain of it. His father 
was stationed nearest him, and he went to him, and 
told him in a low voice, to come with Captain 
Kennedy to where he had been standing. A mo- 
ment’s time sufficed to bring them all together. Pete 


26 i 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

told what he had heard, and the three listened. 
Yes! there was the sound — unmistakable to the 
fisherman and his son — of heavy sweeps working 
in a pair of rowlocks. The clink-clank was dis- 
tinct and clear, and the interval in the sounds 
showed to experienced ears like theirs, that it was 
not a pair of light or readily wielded oars. 

“Zey are in a sail boat,” whispered the fisher- 
man, “and ze wind has failed them, so zey've taken 
to ze sweeps.” 

“How far off should you think they were by the 
sound?” asked Kennedy. 

“A mile or more,” replied Mr. Graignic. “Sound 
runs far over still water like zis. But zey’ve got 
ze tide to help ’em, and with ze aid of zose sweeps, 
ze chances are zey will be up in ten minutes.” 

“Then,” said Captain Kennedy, “here's what we'll 
do: In the first place they're sure to land in this 
cove, don't you think?” 

“If it’s Kelley and McGovern, they will,” said 
Pete. 

“Yes, you're right,” rejoined Kennedy. “Well 
then, Pete, you and the dog get behind that big 
fir tree there.” 

He pointed to a large tree about forty yards from 
where the boat would land if it came to the head 
of the cove, and some thirty feet from the trail 
leading up to the house. 

“Yes,” said Pete, waiting to hear the balance of 
the plan. 


262 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

“Mr. Graignic,” continued the revenue officer, 
“you and I will stay right here. When the smug- 
glers get to us, Fll order them to throw up their 
hands. It they do so without trouble Pete and you 
will cover them with your guns while I go up, and 
put the darbies on them. If they try to get away, 
and that’s possible, for they are desperate fellows, 
and would take chances in the dark, ten to one they 
run towards Pete, and he can open fire, and turn 
them back to us. How does that plan strike you ?” 

“It’s all right,” said they both, and Pete and Dope 
went off to take up their position. 


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR 


r T'HERE was no underbrush between Pete and the 
* cove, so he had a clear view of the water. A 
few moments after he had installed himself the 
sounds grew more distinct, and he was able to dis- 
cern the moving mass turn the point, and approach 
up the cove. He drew back into a bunch of high 
fern behind the tree, and crouched down, one hand 
on Dope, who was trembling with excitement and 
eagerness, and the other on the butt of his pistol. 
The moving mass grounded, and as the horizon was 
growing lighter with the dawn, and it lay against 
the sky, Pete was able to distinguish the outlines 
of a fine fishing sloop. Two men leaped from her 
to the shore, first throwing out a light kedge an- 
chor. They were evidently under no apprehension 
of danger, and talked to each other in tones that 
could be plainly heard. Captain Pete, with an un- 
pleasant thrill of remembrance, at once recognized 
the grating tones of McGovern, and the deeper, 
harsher voice of the King of Puget Sound smug- 
glers. 

“Well, pard,” said Kelley, as they struck the trail 
to the house, “we are safe at last. We'll have old 
Strobel out directly, and make him give us a slug 
263 


264 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

of whiskey, and some chuck, for I'm hungry as a 
wolf” 

“Yes,” answered Mike, with a chuckle of pleas- 
ant anticipation, “and that'll be the first whiskey 
that has run down our gullets in a long time, eh 
Bill?” 

“Yes, cuss the luck, and the young skunk they 
call Captain Pete!” 

At this moment a voice to the right of them 
sternly commanded: 

“Throw up your hands, Bill Kelley and Mike Mc- 
Govern! You are my prisoners.” 

Mike's hands instantaneously went into the air as 
he heard that grim mandate, but Kelley's nature 
was different. He was as recklessly brave a man 
as ever lived, and like lightning his hand went to 
his belt, drew a heavy revolver, and before the cap- 
tain's voice had died away, he had discharged three 
shots in the direction of the sound. 

A jeering laugh answered the reports, and then 
Kennedy spoke again : 

“Bill, you may as well drop that gun. I've got 
a bead on your heart, and when I pull trigger, you 
know it means business. Besides me, there's an- 
other here with his gun up; and you're cornered 
from behind, too. So you had better drop it. If 
you don't when I count three, your goose is cooked. 
Now, one! two! — ” 

Kelley dropped the smoking pistol with a savage 
curse, and Kennedy continued : 

































































- 
























DOPE R EGA N TO CIRCLE AROUND THE PRISONERS. 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 265 

“That’s right! Now up with your hands. 
Quick!” 

The outlaw put his hands up. 

“Now,” Kennedy called, “Captain Pete, I am go- 
ing out to handcuff them. If they make a move, 
you and your father shoot to kill.” 

“Aye, aye, sir !” sung out Mr. Graignic and our 
hero, loud enough for the smugglers to hear. 

Mike McGovern uttered a groan, and Kelley a 
ferocious curse when the name of Captain Pete was 
uttered, but they had no time to say more for Ken- 
nedy now stepped boldly out in front of them. At 
the same instant, cocked revolver in hand, Pete 
came up from behind, and at his word of command, 
Dope rushed forward, and began to circle around 
the prisoners with deep growls. Kelley raised his 
foot as if to kick the dog, but Dope sprang at his 
throat in such a paroxysm of rage that only 
Pete’s sharp and hasty command saved the bru- 
tal fellow from being mangled by those strong 
white teeth. 

“Well,” observed Kennedy later that morning as 
he sat on a box in front of Strobel’s fireplace watch- 
ing the fisherman and Pete’s culinary operations 
with great interest. “We’ve bagged the whole 
bunch of them in fine style, and now the question 
,is what’s the next step to take.” 

The fisherman was busy putting the coffee in the 
pot, and Pete was turning the sizzling bacon in the 
frying-pan. The prisoners, made fast hand and 


266 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

foot, lay in plain view from the door, but out of 
hearing. 

“The Evangel stops at East Sound at two o’clock 
to-day on her way back to Port Townsend.” 

“We’ll have to hustle to catch her,” commented 
Pete’s father, “for there’s not a breath of wind.” 

“What’s the matter with our taking our time, and 
sailing back to Port Townsend in the sloop? She 
is probably stolen from somebody in the lower 
sound, and we may just as well take her back as 
far as we go,” said Kennedy. 

“That plan suits me first-rate!” said Pete. 

“Well,” observed Mr. Graignic, “as you’ll have 
Pete and Jimmy, you won’t need me. So I’ll stay 
at home where I’ve got plenty to do at zis season.” 

“All right,” answered Kennedy. “We can go itr 
alone, I reckon, Pete. And the dog is as good as 
two men.” 

“What are you going to do wiz Strobel’s whale- 
boat ?” asked the fisherman. 

“Why, I suppose we’ll confiscate it. Long Tom’s 
confession shows that it has been used in smuggling. 
It’ll be sold at auction in Port Townsend, and prob- 
ably bring about five dollars.” 

“I’d give five for it mighty quick,” said Mr. 
Graignic. “I need just such a boat.” 

“Then take it,” said the revenue man, “but don’t 
get out your money. I reckon the department owes 
you more than that. I’ll fix it up with the Col- 
lector.” 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 267 

“Well,” said the fisherman, “I wasn’t begging, 
but if you zink I am entitled to it, I’ll take it. It’s 
a staunch cedar, clinker-built boat, and will do for 
me finely.” 

“Don’t let Strobel take it away from you when 
he gets out of quod, for tho’ he probably stole it in 
the first place, he’ll think he has a claim on it,” cau- 
tioned Kennedy. 

“If he gets zat boat again you may say a German 
is smarter zan a Frenchman.” 

“That settles it!” cried the officer. “I forgot 
about the nationalities. You frog-eaters don’t like 
sourkraut, do you ?” 

While breakfast was being eaten, Kennedy re- 
sumed : 

“I am rather puzzled to know what to do with 
Long Tom. I want his evidence to convict Stro- 
bel, and Black Sam of smuggling so that pre- 
cious pair can be sent to McNiel’s island to keep 
company with their friends Kelley and McGovern; 
but he was guilty himself, and I don’t want him 
sent up.” 

“Why don’t you charge the two with arson and 
criminal assault?” asked Pete. “They tried to burn 
our barn, and Strobel would have shot you if you 
hadn’t knocked him down.” 

“Say, Pete ! That’s a first-rate idea. I shouldn’t 
wonder if I could get them a couple of years apiece 
in the State penitentiary on that charge, and with 
the evidence we have, it would be easier to convict 


268 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

them of that than of smuggling, for we caught them 
in the act.” 

“Yes,” said the fisherman, “and what will you do 
wiz Long Tom? Poor fellow! I have no grudge 
against him.” 

“I’ll just let him escape quietly. I suppose it 
looks something like compounding a felony, but no- 
body will know about it except you two, for I won’t 
even take Jimmy into my confidence. Not that he 
would split, but he drinks too much Scotch whuskey 
at times, and he might let it out when he’s mellow. 
Well, then we may as well go over to your house, 
Mr. Graignic, we’ve done our business here. We’ll 
stay there to-night, and I’ll give Long Tom a couple 
of dollars and let him run.” 

“He can take my old dingy,” said the fisherman, 
“and make his way to Whatcom, where he’ll prob- 
ably find work, if he wants it.” 

“Yes,” rejoined Kennedy, “he won’t want to go 
back to British Columbia yet awhile for fear of be- 
ing picked up as a deserter from the Monarch.” 

They reached the fisherman’s house about nine 
o’clock. Jimmy was feeding Strobel and Black 
Sam when they came in. Long Tom felt better, 
and his wound was healing finely from the first at- 
tention. He was very glad to see Kennedy again, 
for he had become greatly attached to him. Kelley 
and McGovern were locked in the cellar with their 
friends, and they were not so glad to meet each 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 269 

other as they had expected to be. Captain Ken- 
nedy was rather inclined to be facetious over this 
fact, and his comments drew terrible oaths from 
both Kelley and Strobel, who did not accept their 
misfortunes as philosophically as McGovern and 
Black Sam. The king of the smugglers, and the 
German both seemed to feel greater resentment 
towards the fisherman and Captain Pete, than they 
did to the revenue man, although under the latter’s 
stern rule they were not permitted to talk much. 
But they threatened both of them fiercely whenever 
they got an opportunity in Kennedy’s absence. 
This did not however, worry either of the Graig- 
nics much, for both had good nerve, and they felt 
that in any case the rascals could not carry out their 
threats of vengeance for some years to come. 

Pete went over soon after they landed, to the 
Thomas’s to see his mother and the children. The 
Indian woman was greatly elated at this signal tri- 
umph over their enemies, and insisted on giving 
Pete a great deal more than his share of credit in 
the matter. When he told her that he was going to 
return to Port Townsend the next morning, and re- 
sume his studies, she did not make any of the re- 
monstrances he had dreaded, but acquiesced will- 
ingly, and even gladly for she told Pete she had 
made up her mind that she wanted him to know 
everything the “Boston” men knew. She had 
fought the fight with her own heart, and conquered. 


270 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

Pete was to be a great man, even if it separated him 
from her. And having made up her mind, she 
stuck to it with true Indian fortitude. 

Kennedy had a conversation with Long Tom that 
afternoon, and from the latter’s radiant face at its 
conclusion, it was evident that he was satisfied. 
The fisherman and his son each insisted on adding 
two dollars to those the revenue man gave Tom, and 
as he was absolutely penniless before, he now felt a 
comparatively rich man, and at least would have to 
do nothing dishonest in order to live for a few days. 
Then Kennedy gave him a letter to a friend in 
Whatcom through whom he would be apt to get 
employment. Altogether Long Tom felt as if he 
were being born again into a new life, and he not 
only promised faithfully to his friend that he would 
hereafter keep in the middle of the road, but de- 
voutly determined to do his best to show that he was 
worth helping. 

“Now,” remarked Captain Pete, “as we have re- 
ceived Long Tom into favor I’d better introduce 
Dope to him. Where’s Jimmy?” 

“He’s taking a walk on the beach. I told him 
that he might go for an hour,” answered Mr. 
Graignic. “But what do you want to introduce 
Dope to Tom for?” 

“So that he’ll know him as a friend. You know 
Dope won’t pay any attention to those to whom he 
is not properly introduced, and is inclined to look 
on everybody but acquaintances with suspicion, as 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 271 

tho’ they were possible enemies. Now if he didn't 
know Long Tom to be a friend of mine, instead of 
a prisoner, he probably wouldn't let him go away 
to-night." 

Captain Kennedy nodded. He had known Dope 
in Port Townsend, and was aware of how he had 
been trained, but Mr. Graignic slapped his leg with 
his favorite gesture, and exclaimed : 

“Well, I swear! I'm almost ready to believe zat 
dog has got a soul." 

“He has," answered Pete calmly. 

Then Dope was called, and Long Tom came out 
of his room. “Dope," said his master, “this is a 
friend of mine, Long Tom. Come and shake hands 
with him." 

The mastiff stalked majestically up, sniffed Tom 
inquisitively to see that he was all right, and then 
solemnly held out his paw. Tom shook it some- 
what gingerly, remembering the animal's fierceness 
the night of the attack. 

“There, you're all right, Tom," affirmed Pete. 
“He's a friend of yours until death, and if you're in 
trouble he'll be on your side." 

About an hour after dark Captain Kennedy put 
the little Scotchman on watch in front of the cellar, 
and shortly after said to Long Tom: 

“Now, my man, go out by the front door here, so 
you won't be seen by Jimmy, and walk quietly down 
to the beach. There you'll find a skiff in the water. 
A good pair of oars are in it, and Mr. Graignic 


272 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

makes you a present of it. Get in, and pull away to 
some other island. To-morrow you can find your 
way by daylight to Whatcom, which bears east from 
here. Ask your way of the ranchers if you get 
lost” 

The rough sailor's cheek was flushed, and his 
voice choked as he said : 

“Captain, you've been a good friend to me, God 
bless you, and so have you all. If any of you ever 
get into a tight squeeze, and I'm around to help you, 
I hope my right hand may rot if it don't strike a 
blow for you. Good-bye, gentlemen all.” 

The next moment he was gone, and shortly they 
heard an oar rumble in a rowlock. 

“He's off,” said Captain Pete, who had been 
rather affected by the man's emotion. 

“Yes,” replied Kennedy, “there's the making of 
a decent American citizen in that fellow.” 

“Anyone who can feel repentance and gratitude,” 
concluded the fisherman, “has good in him. I zink 
he will be an honest man from now on.” 

“So do I !” agreed both the others. 

“We'll let Jimmy discover he's gone in the morn- 
ing,” observed the revenue man, “and then after it's 
found he's taken the boat we'll agree that it's no 
use looking after him. By the way, I'm afraid he 
won't be able to pull much with that sore arm of 
his.” 

“Oh,” answered the fisherman, “he'll be all right. 

I put an old sail in ze boat as well as ze oars, and 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 273 

he’s a shellback, and will contrive to take advantage 
of ze wind. No sailor pulls when zere’s any wind. 
You might as well ask him to go afoot.” 

Jimmy came running to the friends at breakfast 
the next morning, all agog with the news of the 
escape of the prisoner. To say the truth, they all 
took the tidings mighty calmly, and the Scotchman 
could not fail to see that it did not worry them much. 
The little fellow was canny in his way, and he made 
up his mind that no very urgent attempt would be 
made to capture Long Tom, and as he said to him- 
self “It was nane o’ his pirn.” 

And now the preparations for the trip to Port 
Townsend began. The captives were brought up 
from the cellar, and handcuffed together so that if 
one tried to escape he would have to take all the 
others with him. Neither Kelley nor Strobel liked 
this method, and both were inclined to become re- 
fractory. But Kennedy paid no heed to their 
growls, and when Kelley made a show of resistance, 
the muscular officer seized him by the throat in a 
grip that made him gasp for breath, and giving him 
a severe shaking, said : 

“Look here Bill Kelley, I’m going to take you to 
Port Townsend, and I’ll do it humanely if you let 
me. But you’ve got to go, and if you give me any 
more trouble, I’ll knock you down, and truss you up 
so you can’t move hand or foot. Don’t you open 
your rascally mouth again.” 

Kelley subsided, and it was well for him that he 


274 Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

did, for he had met in Captain Kennedy an oppo- 
nent who could be just as ruthless as he himself 
was when he had the upper hand. Strobel also 
took counsel by what he heard, and there was no 
more trouble. The manacled men were seated un- 
der the half deck of the sloop, and Kennedy and 
Jimmy went to the halliards, and hoisted the sails, 
while Captain Pete took his old place at the tiller, 
with Dope lying at his feet, and wistfully eyeing the 
prisoners. As the sail caught the wind, and the 
boat gathered way, Kennedy sung out to the fisher- 
man who stood on the shore watching them : 

“Good-bye, Mr. Graignic, Fll look out for your 
share of the reward for these fellows, and send it up 
to you.” 

Pete called out : 

“Good-bye Dad, till I come down again.” 

His father waved his hand, and they were off. 

(As we leave the little half breed fisher boy of 
Puget Sound whose fortunes you have, I hope, fol- 
lowed with interest through these pages, he has gal- 
lantly fought his way amid adverse surroundings 
and conditions to a higher life, as well as defeated 
the enemies who encompassed him during the ex- 
citing struggle. 

Those of you who care to follow the rise of the 
ambitious lad will find in the second volume of the 
series, “Captain Pete of Cortesana,” that our young 
hero is equally efficient and courageous in the wider 


275 


Captain Pete of Puget Sound 

field where he is called to play his part, while the ad- 
ventures of the dog and his master are even more 
perilous and exciting than those he has already un- 
dergone.) 


THE END 








Jl Tale of the JHamo 

IN TEXAS WITH DAVY CROCKETT 

By EVERETT McNEIL 
A Story of the Texas War of Independence 

Illustrated. i2mo $1.50 

The tale tells of the adventures of two boys, Trav 
and Tom, during that intensely dramatic and exciting 
period when Texas won her independence from Mexico 
— the most heroic in the history of America. The 
famous bear-hunter and backwoods statesman DAVY 
CROCKETT, and the even more famous SAM HOUS- 
TON, are the two leading historical characters in the 
story, while WILL TRAVIS, the ill-fated FANNIN, 
JIM BOWIE, of bowie-knife fame, DEAF SMITH, the 
famous Texan scout, and other characters well known 
in Texan history, play important, if minor, parts in the 
tale. 

The story begins a few weeks before the battle of 
the Alamo — one of the most heroic in all history ; carries 
the reader through the scenes of this battle and the still 
more terrible Goliad, and reaches its final climax in 
the battle of San Jacinto, where General Houston prac- 
tically annihilates the Mexican army, captures Santa 
Anna himself, and wins the Independence of Texas. 

Great care has been taken to have all historical 
data correct, and to give accurate pictures of the men 
and the times, while, at the same time, telling a story 
that will deeply interest the boy reader and make him 
anxious to go to his history in order to learn more of 
the heroic men in whose deeds it is hoped the tale has 
given him almost a personal interest. 


E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 

31 West Twenty-third Street, New York 


THE HERMIT OF THE CULEBRA 
MOUNTAINS 

Or, THE ADVENTURES OF TWO SCHOOLBOYS 
IN THE FAR WEST 

By EVERETT McNEIL 

Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, . . . $1.50 

The story of a hunting trip in the Culebra Mountains, awarded 
to two boys as the prize for the most manly conduct in the Yahara 
High School for the term then ending. 

Harry Ashton and Dick Orson win the prize and under Cap- 
tain Kent’s guidance start for the mountains. They make the 
acquaintance of cowboys and Indians in the foothills and when riding 
out from a ranch with the little daughter of the rancher are captured 
and threatened with torture by Indians. The chief and others of 
the band are killed by some mysterious agency, and they are res- 
cued by the Hermit of the Culebra Mountains, taken up into his 
marvelous tree-top home, where they are besieged by the Indians ; 
they in turn rescue the cowboys who had followed the Indians, then 
all go through a series of startling adventures and danger. The secret 
of the Hermit is revealed. When in flight from the burning for- 
tress of the Hermit they catch a glimpse of a secret treasure 
cave of the ancients, but are forced to continue their flight. 

A thoroughly real story of the wild western life when the cow- 
boy and the Indian were natural enemies and the golden halo of 
romance held up the western country as the El Dorado of adventure 
and enterprise to the healthy-minded man and boy. 


E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 

31 West Twenty-third Street, New York 


THE LOST TREASURE CAVE 

Or, ADVENTURES WITH THE COWBOYS OF 
COLORADO 

By EVERETT McNEIL 

Illustrated. 12 mo, cloth, . . . $1.50 

The story of two Wisconsin schoolboys, who go to 
southern Colorado to secure a vast treasure known to be 
hidden in a great cave — are captured by Indians, but 
give the Indians the fright of their lives and escape — 
take part in a most exciting cowboy Fourth of July cele- 
bration — kill a wounded buffalo bull just in time to save 
a young girl’s life — are kidnapped by desperadoes, who 
are also after the treasure, taken to the mountains and 
threatened with death and torture — enter the marvel- 
lous Treasure Chamber of the Dead Kings, and find 
— but, let the story itself tell what they found. 

A wholesome tale that will interest boys, and give 
them true pictures of cowboy life on the plains of Colo- 
rado before the buffaloes were driven away and when 
the Indians and the desperadoes were still an ever- 
present danger. 


E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 

31 West Twenty-third Street, New York 


BOORS B Y 

COLONEL H. R. GORDON 


LOGAN, THE MINGO 

A Story of the Frontier. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, illus- 
trated 

RED JACKET, THE LAST OF THE SENECAS 

i2mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated .... $1.50 

An exciting story of scouts and Indians in the expedition sent against the 
Six Nations in the year 1779. — The Outlook. 

A regular Indian story is “ Red Jacket, the Last of the Senecas,” by Colonel 
H. R. Gordon, author of three other popular books of Indian life and adven- 
ture. The scene is laid in central and western New York and covers the in- 
vasion of the country of the Six Nations by General Sullivan in 1779. — 
Boston Transcript. 

PONTIAC, CHIEF OF THE OTTAWAS 

A Tale of the Siege of Detroit. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, 
illustrated ....... $1.50 

It presents a skilful study of the famous Indian’s individuality, conveyed 
without sacrificing the rapid movement and engrossing interest of the narra- 
tive. And both as bearing upon history and as an interpretation of character 
the book is of a high order, while its interest grows to the close. — Congrega- 
tionalist. 

OSCEOLA, CHIEF OF THE SEMINOLES 

Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, gilt top . . . $1.50 

There are no tales that interest boys more than Indian tales, and this is one 
of the best sort, exciting and varied, yet founded on fact and life-like. — N. Y . 
Observer. 

This lively and adventurous tale of the Seminole War will delight the 
hearts of all American boys. We are glad, too, to observe that the gallant 
author has the courage to tell the truth of the base treachery by which the 
great chief was ultimately captured. We wish there were more books like 
this for boys; and we cannot close without paying our compliments to the 
publishers on the pleasing dress in which they have given it to the public. — 
Church Standard. 

TECUMSEH, CHIEF OF THE SHAWANOES 

i2mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated, 312 pages . $1.50 

Colonel Gordon contributes a well-written story of the famous Indian 
chief “ Tecumseh,” which is an important book for every boy and girl to read 
carefully. _ It is far more than a book of entertainment, it is history told in a 
most fascinating way and full of information. — Churchman. 

There is a great deal of life, action, stirring adventure in the story, with 
much desirable historical pabulum. — Buffalo Commercial. 


E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 
31 West Twenty-third Street, New York 




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